


A Reluctant Terrarian

by Spyder Z (SpyderZ)



Category: Terraria
Genre: Fantasy, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-03
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 14:30:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 87,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1045050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpyderZ/pseuds/Spyder%20Z
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adding some Meat to the Vanilla Terraria 'Experience'. Waking up in a strange world, the Protagonist is left to discern not only his purpose, but to figure out 'what' was in fact going on. Seemingly alone but for a 'Guide' that is more than he seems...</p><p>(Will update as story progresses)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Introduction of Sorts

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I love that 'Author's Notes' are built in to the AO3 System. This is my second time posting this due to an error (Likely on my part) that deleted it the first time. Just as a heads up, this story will always update 'First' Here:
> 
> https://forums.terraria.org/index.php?threads/a-reluctant-terrarian.739/
> 
> as it began it's life as a 'Forum Story' experiment. I'll eventually port over relevant comments from the forum.

Lying there in the dirt, he wasn’t sure what he hated more; the pain coursing through his limbs from falling, or the barely contained amusement the guy leaning over him was wearing on his face. Taking an inventory, he realized that aside from his clothing, he had nothing of value on him.

"You look lost," the smug and otherwise unremarkable guy standing over him eventually said in a cold and oddly distant voice.

"No, I just like lying out in the dirt in the middle of…" trailing off, he realized he didn’t have anything to finish that with. Deciding that he was at the least, done lying in the dirt, he took the strangers proffered hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

"Sooo…" looking around, he realized that not only wasn’t he sure where he was… but he wasn’t too sure where he’d come from. The last thing he could recall was getting dressed… "where…"

"Terraria," the stranger offered, a smile just barely concealed in his almost tangibly piercing gaze.

"Terrawhere?" he replied, having just realized that last thought must have been out loud, "and who are you anyway?" he added.

"Terraria, and I am here to guide you… for now," the stranger answered unhelpfully.

Looking around, he could see that there were quite a few trees in every direction, and the ground seemed to rise and fall erratically, as if this area had been hewn by the hands of a rather large excited child. From their vantage, he could just make out the tips of some mountain range through the thinner upper branches to the north.

"Well okay _Guide_ , which way takes me home… wherever that was…" he asked, not liking the realization that he really had no idea where he called home.

The smile returning to his lips, the stranger tossed him a copper bladed axe that, moments before, was nowhere to be seen. Instinctively catching it, he was both surprised at his reflex, and uncomfortable with the weapon’s sudden appearance.

" _That_ , is entirely up to you," the stranger said, by way of an answer.

"I don’t get it," he replied. "Am I going to need this for protection?"

"It will suffice for that as well. However, one typically uses an axe to fell trees, such as those surrounding us in the clearing," the stranger answered him. "I imagine that there are enough around us for _home_ to be wherever you desire."

Giving the stranger an incredulous look, he replied, "There is a lot wrong with what you’ve just said. First off, I’m no lumber jack. I don’t know the first thing about cutting down trees… not that I imagine it’s too awfully difficult. Secondly, what am I supposed to do with an entire freaking tree once I’ve managed to _fell_ it. I may be rather strong for my frame, but that’s pushing things just a mite don’t you think? Finally, and actually most importantly, I have absolutely no interest in home _being_ anywhere other than where it already is. I’m not a carpenter either, and the thought of _building_ a home way out here in the middle of nowhere doesn’t really appeal to me."

Seemingly unmoved by his words, the infuriating smile still skirting the corners of his lips, the stranger only replied, " _Home_ , _Hole_ , it doesn’t really matter. You’ll need somewhere to hide once night arises."

"And what do you mean by that?" he yelled, beginning to lose his patience with this guy’s sideways speech.

"There are dangers at night for the unprepared, and for the immediate future, that includes you. To address your carrying concerns, take this as well..." the stranger replied, still unfazed, as he undid the belt of pouches he wore at his waist before tossing it to him.

Wearing what had to be a look of absolute disbelief, he caught the belt and just stood there looking at the stranger anew. Perhaps that piercing look he’d noticed before was merely madness, and this stranger was simply out of his mind. That would explain his near nonsensical answers… though; he looked too clean to be a mad man wandering alone in the woods… so it had to be something else…

"Listen, I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I’m not interested in finding out. Why don’t you just point me towards the nearest city, village, town, mud hut, what have you, and I’ll figure it out from there," he responded impatiently, slowly lowering the belt, not sure if he wanted to put it on or not.

It wasn’t madness… the look he received was too keen, too… something else, to be madness. The nearly surreal pearly violet of the stranger’s eyes was almost "too" present… and there was something else… something that settled just beyond his awareness and menaced him from there. All in all, he was quickly becoming less comfortable in the stranger’s presence… until…

"Look… let me help you out…" the stranger said, his whole countenance seeming to fall in on itself causing him to look weary and travel worn. The keenness had completely left his gaze, and the menacing "Presence" was lifted. It was almost as if he’d just up and become an entirely different person right before his eyes.

"I’m sorry…" the stranger began, "I’ve been here for far longer than I’d wish on anyone, and sometimes… the place just gets to me. I’m sorry for coming across so cold. Let me show you something…" he finished, walking over to one of the nearer trees, "Oh, and put that belt on. You’ll see why in a few minutes."

Still not sure he quite trusted this stranger, and very uneasy about what he’d just witnessed, he still decided that it "Probably" wouldn’t be dangerous to humor the guy for a little bit anyway. He was completely lost physically, and grasping at straws mentally, so in the hope that his compliance would lead to something he could be sure of, even if that something was how little he should trust the stranger, he decided to play along. At the least, he wasn’t inexplicably unsettled just being near to him.

"What is your name anyway?" he asked again as he put the belt on and made his way over to the tree.

"Heh, what did you call me earlier, Guile? That’s as good a name as any," the stranger answered, undoubtedly more tired than it would have seemed possible moments before.

Not wanting to argue, he just accepted this odd response and gave _Guile_ a look as to say "Now What?"…

"Now just take a few blows at the tree with that axe and try not to be alarmed," Guile said before stepping back from the tree in question.

Not sure what he should expect, he looked up at the tree for a moment before he began. They were certainly an odd sort of growth. Mostly trunk, with the odd few limbs and "Bobs" of leaves primarily closer to the top. Taking a deep breath, he drew back the axe and swung at the tree with all his might. This succeeded, in the blade glancing of the trunk and almost lodging itself into his leg. Dropping the axe due to the violent vibrations coursing through it and jumping back he turned on Guile ready to ask him what the big deal was, only to have his rage elevated by the laughter of his "Guide".

"You… you’re… hahaha… you’re thinking about it too hard..." he managed to get out between his breaths.

"What the heck are you talking about!?" he hollered back, "What does that have to do with the tool not being sufficient for the task at hand?!" he yelled.

"The tool is just fine," Guile responded, mostly composed. "You aren’t from around here, so trust me when I say you’re thinking about it too hard. I know it’s kind of hard to wrap your mind around, but you don’t need to understand it, you just need to work with it."

"What _it_ do I need to work with to cut down a blamed tree?!" he replied, still yelling.

"This world is a deeply magical place. I don’t know where you came from, but I can assure you that here… _Everything_ is touched by the power of our world. If you don’t work with that power, you’re working against it… and," his countenance darkened briefly, and for a moment that "Presence" was almost back, "that takes more than you have within your fleshy little frame…" he answered his voice once more distant, and empty, before returning to his previous demeanor, weary and travel worn, all trace of humor gone.

Chilled once more by this obvious change, he composed himself, and considered Guile’s words. "So… how do I do that?"

"Trust your tool, and not your strength," his now somber guide answered him. "Here, the quality of your tools makes all the difference. You need not wear yourself out trying to make your tools work. Once assembled, your tools will work for you."

This sounded like borderline nonsense, but he decided that it couldn’t hurt… hopefully… to give it a try. If this didn’t pan out though, he was going to chalk Guile’s ramblings up to insanity, of an uncertain kind, and find his own way. "So how do I _Trust my Tool_?"

"Just swing your axe at the tree. Don’t force it at the tree, just swing it, and _know_ that it will cut it."

Feeling absolutely ridiculous, he picked the axe back up, took a deep breath, and just swung it at the tree. Not trying to put his force behind the swing, he couldn’t imagine what he was supposed to be accomplishing.

The axe made a rather satisfying *Whump* and dug visibly into the bark.

A seemingly genuine smile crossed Guile’s lips and he motioned for him to continue his assault on the tree.

He wasn’t sure what had him more unbalanced. His lack of understanding his overall situation, the man who was more than he seemed, or the fact that merely swinging an axe without regard was enough to solidly dig into a tree that moments before had repelled his best effort. He wasn’t sure, and for the next few moments he didn’t care. There was something almost therapeutic about the steady *Whump* *Whump* *Whump* the axe made as it dug into the tree.

His few moments of respite were soon taken from him however when his world erupted into a shower of wood.

Having lost himself in the steady rhythm of the axe, he was completely ill prepared for the tree’s sudden explosion. Having already been through quite enough, he reacted as any reasonable person in an increasingly psychologically strenuous situation would have. He threw the axe with no regard to its landing place and ran screaming for cover.

With no destination, no idea where he was, and really, not enough sense to consider any of that at the moment, he charged headlong into the misshapen lightly wooded hills.


	2. The Welcoming Committee

What felt like anywhere between a few moments to a few hours of running nonstop passed before he collapsed brokenly to the ground. Tired, and now slowly realizing that he was even more lost than he was before, he rolled onto his back and tried to collect his breath and his senses.

As his breathing started returning to normal, and the sounds of the hills began to recede into the background, a peculiar noise stood out against the backdrop.

*Shlorp, Plop, fTchsh*

Sitting up quickly, he strained his ears trying to figure out where the sound was coming from.

*Shlorp, Plop, fTchsh*

Sitting at the bottom of a rather steep hill, he was almost sure…

*Shlorp, Plop, fTchsh*

No, he was certain, that the noise was coming from the other side of the Hill.

*Shlorp, Plop, fTchsh*

He was also certain that he wasn’t really interested in the noise, as much as he was afraid of it. Wishing he’d not tossed the axe in his fright, he was surprised when his hand closed on the handle of...

*Shlorp, Plop, fTchsh*

Standing up without dropping what he discovered was a crude sword with a copper blade, he turned to face the noise holding the weapon in front of him. Not sure what good a weapon he didn’t know how to use was going to be he looked up to see…

*Shlorp, Plop, fTchsh*

A large gelatinous wad of… something… land quivering on impact atop the hill. Wondering what could have possibly thrown that up there, he was taken aback when the green tinged glob of goo shuddered. He watched as its outer perimeter condensed down around its base and it’s inner mass raised itself into a dome shape *Shlorp* before *Plop*the dome snapped into the mass, breaking the seal formed by its perimeter and launching it into the air in his direction landing far too close to him for his comfort *fTchsh*.

He stumbled backwards falling over with the sword just barely still in his hands and raised it pointed end at the blob as if he could threaten it away with this feeble gesture alone. It was unsurprisingly unfazed, not that he was certain it really had the capability to react.

*Shlorp, Plop* Thrusting the blade into the air and roaring while tensing up, not of a mind to fully think his actions through, he was surprised momentarily when * fTchsh* the blob landed on the other side of him. Not needing an invitation, he took this as an opportunity to scramble hurriedly to his feet with all the grace of a drunken foal trying to right itself and move to two legs, but not fast enough before,

*Shlorp, Plop,* "AaAaAaAAHHHHHH" he screamed, falling forward this time to the ground and thrashing around to fend off… *fTchsh* Nothing.

Looking around frantically, he noticed the goop hadn’t come back for him. In fact, it seemed to not even have noticed him.

*Shlorp, Plop, fTchsh*

Standing shaken, but otherwise unharmed, he watched as the blob of semi-transparent green goo just continued along its way.

*Shlorp, Plop, fTchsh*

*Shlorp, Plop, fTchsh*

"You’re lucky you didn’t stick that slime as it was coming past." Guile’s voice informed him, abruptly focusing his dazed and shattered thoughts.

"Who the… What the…" looking around having not expected to hear his voice again, he didn’t see his would be guide anywhere.

"Had you stuck that slime, not only would you have had to deal with its rapid shift in demeanor, but Pinky happens to be watching you from the rocks over here." Guile informed him, coming out from behind a large mound of moss covered stones.

"Who's watching me?" he asked, startled, looking for someone else besides the strange man who had somehow found him again.

"Pinky, though it looks like she's leaving now," Guile answered, pointing at the stones where he thought he saw a small splash of color before it melted into the mound.

"What the Heck is going on here!" he shouted, sounding far meeker to himself than he liked.

The stranger shrugged, "Let’s see… you’re standing, shaking, in the middle of a lightly wooded area yelling at me for things I have absolutely nothing to do with. Am I close?" he asked, a weary look on his face.

Glaring at Guile, unable to completely shake the discomfort from earlier, he took a slow shuddering breath and tried to compose himself so that he could at least figure out what was going on, which was easier said than done.

"Listen, I don’t know where I am, I don’t know what’s going on, and I was almost attacked by a giant blob,"

"Slime."

"Whatever!" he shouted, aggravated at having been interrupted while he was trying to organize his thoughts out loud.

"Listen, I know you’re not happy right now, but we don’t have time to sit here and discuss your problems," Guile stated, intentionally speaking over his attempt to start talking again, and almost setting him off in the process. "If you thought a passing slime was something to be concerned about you would be wise to start preparing accommodations for the night. The dead are not as fearful of the moon as they are of the sun."

Giving Guile an incredulous look, he was reluctant to ask, "What do you mean by that?"

"What do you think I mean? With the sun just over halfway across the sky, you've not got too many hours of daylight left before the Zombies and Demon Eyes come looking for food. I'm told warm blood, and healthy flesh is irresistible to those who no longer have either." he answered.

"Wait, you expect me to believe..."

"Listen, I don't care what you believe," Guile interrupted him. "The facts are simple. You either spend the next few hours figuring out where you're going to hole up for the night, or I get to watch as the walking, flying dead tear you apart."

"And what about you, where do you _hole_ up?" he asked, angry at the monotone way in which his _guide_ was discussing his potential dismemberment.

"When you've been here as long as I have... No, let me take that back. Once you've been here long enough, you find that there are far greater dangers than those posed by the night. _I_ no longer have anything to fear from them. _You_ however just fell apart at the sight of a slime. So again," this time his voice took on the low hollow tone it held on their first meeting, and that _presence_ was back, "Hide or not, it is your life to end as you wish."

"And what the heck is _That_ about!" he yelled at Guile, gesturing loosely towards the strange man who seemed to flip back and forth between creepy and travel worn.

A smile hiding just beyond the corners of his mouth, a smile that held no warmth, Guile responded, " _This,_ is about giving you what you need to forge your own pathetic way. _This,_ is about showing you that which you are incapable of seeing on your own. _This_... is about providing enough guidance for you to choose your own death." still in that distant, almost menacing tone.

Looking at the nearly blank expression on Guile's face, he could feel his anger slowly lumbering away under no volition of his own. As his shoulders deflated, he realized it wasn't that he felt any safer, but nothing made sense, nothing was as he expected it to be, and fighting it was only draining him of what energy he had left. As he slowly sunk to his knees, he realized that the more aggressively he struggled against the strange situation he found himself in, the less energy he had to figure things out, and he was nearing the edge of his ability to do both... not that he'd been successful at either.

Looking up he was surprised to see his actions had been mirrored. "Fine, just tell me what I need to do to survive the night. I'll start figuring the rest out after that." he replied in a tone that trudged out the very last bit of his struggle and pointedly buried it.

His voice weary once more, Guile responded, "Well, for starters, you can go grab your sword, take your axe back, and finish gathering some wood." with another warmer smile now skirting the borders of his expression.

"About that, what happened with that tree back there?" he asked, looking around for the sword that he'd found.

"It's a product of this world's design. The natural magic here is focused around creation... well, most of it is." Guile started telling him as he got to his feet and walked over to where the sword had skittered, "When you fell a tree, you aren't d _estroying_ a tree, but c _reating_ wood. As the trees drink the magic of this world from the acorn up, they naturally reflect that transition."

Picking the sword up, he realized for the first time how light it was. He wasn’t sure what good a sword that felt as if it were possibly hollow would do in a struggle, but he had no intention of putting himself in a situation to find out. Walking back to Guile, he helped the strange man to his feet and asked, "So, where’s the axe?"

What he saw next would have upset him even minutes before, but he was too weary to work up the energy it would take to so much as jump. One second Guile was standing there with nothing in his hands, and then the next had him holding the axe he’d tossed in his fright earlier and raising it for him to take. A slight hesitation, nothing more, and he took the axe. The strange man had many talents so it seemed.

Standing there with an axe, which he noticed was also lighter than he would have thought, in one hand and a sword in the other, he asked, "So how am I supposed to gather wood while carrying both of these?"

"I’ll give you credit, you’re doing a good job of not asking me where the axe came from, but in this instance both answers are directly related. You should store the sword in your pouches, that will free up your hands to use the axe," Guile answered him, a small, but friendly smile now fully on his face.

Looking down at the pouches he’d been given earlier, he couldn’t help but feel silly imagining an entire sword fitting in one of them. Reaching down to open one of the small pouches, he froze as he realized that he was doing it with an empty hand. Looking down for the sword, his gut lurched as the weapon reappeared in his hand. Sitting rather heavily on the ground, he dropped both weapons and took a moment to compose himself.

Breathing _just_ raggedly he said, "Go ahead. Tell me what just happened."


	3. Wholeing Up

"Well, I'll give you credit. You've managed to make use of the pouches without any real instruction. I'm going to guess, based on your reaction though, that it's been unintentional." Guile said.

"I haven't so much as thought about these things since you've given them to me," he replied, shaking his head and looking down at the weapons that were sometimes there, sometimes not.

"So let me guess, you just _happened_ to find that sword lying around when you needed it," Guile stated, a knowing, half smirk on his face.

"Well... yeah," he answered, realizing that he had been too distracted to consider it at the time.

"Well... no, it was in the pouches, the same place you just pulled it from a moment ago." Guile responded.

Looking down at the pouches, he again tried to imagine how a sword could possibly fit into one of them. As he did, the weapon lying beside him just kind of _popped_ out of existence. Starting just a bit, he took a slow breath, and tried imagining where the sword could have gone, at which point he could feel it _pop_ into his hand, and he watched as it rapidly faded into view, not something he would have been able to describe had he not experienced it himself.

"Sooo... what, do I just have to imagine where my sword is when I want to move it, ahh... in and out of the pouches?" he asked, popping the axe in and out of existence as he did.

"If that's how it's working for you, then sure." Guile answered. "Technically, your pouches react to your desires while following the flow of this world’s magic. So, if you intend to put something in them, or you come across a resource you can carry in them, they pull things inside. For example, I noticed that your pouches picked up a few pieces of that tree that you were working on earlier," he added.

Had he not spent the last few moments watching his tools appear and disappear, he would have had a harder time buying the idea of his pouches grabbing wood without his knowledge. As it was he tried to imagine the wood in his pouches, and was only mildly surprised at the _pop_ and rapid fading in the wood then did.

Looking down at the smooth, almost finished piece of wood in his hand, he had a hard time reconciling that with the tree he had been working on. "Wait a minute… why does this wood look like it’s been finished already?"

Chuckling, Guile, who was now acting more and more as the guide he introduced himself as answered, "It’s as I said before. You didn’t _destroy_ a tree, you _created_ wood. That is the wood you created."

"It kind of sounds like a silly _Half Full, Half Empty…_ thing," he replied.

"Whatever you wish to call it, that wood is the product of the tree you felled earlier. Now, nightfall isn’t going to take it’s time getting here so if I were you, I’d get started creating more." Guile stated, no malice in his voice this time.

"Sure… but one more thing first, what else are these pouches holding? And how am I supposed to remember what I put in them if these things just kind of _disappear_ when I think about putting them up?" he asked.

"That’s two things, though one answer… sort of," Guile responded. "You don’t have to worry about remembering everything you place in them. The pouches will keep track of that. Now as to looking through them, put your hand into one of them, and close your eyes."

Not sure what to expect, he did as he was told. "And…?" he asked.

"Heh, I was curious as to how far you would be able to go on your own," Guile responded, "Now, just kind of feel around, but not with your hand."

Trying to follow the same track that was working before, he tried imagining what was stored inside the pouches. As he did this, he could almost _see_ several stacks of wood and, oddly enough, a pickax. He didn’t see them in any material way. It was almost an intuition, as if he just _knew_ they were there and he could picture them if he focused on them enough. He tried to imagine the pickax and he could feel his hand close around its handle. Opening his eyes, and looking down, he could still feel the pickax, though his hand was still in the pouch.

Pulling his hand out, he watched as the pickax slowly faded into view, much like the other tools did when he thought about them. He imagined it returning to the pouch, and it popped out of existence. "And why do I have that?" he asked.

"You’ll need it before too long. For now, I’ve answered your questions and the sun is notably more than halfway across the sky. Start working on collecting wood, and I’ll show you how to put together a simple structure for you to hide from the night in." he answered firm, but not menacingly.

Frustrated by how much he didn’t know, but deciding that he’d probably better get started, if Guile was this persistent, he put the sword and the wood he’d pulled out into the pouches and picked up the axe, walking over to a small cluster of trees. Remembering not to think about it too hard, he began rhythmically swinging the axe.

*Whump* *Whump* *Whump* *Whump* *Whump* Whump*

Also remembering what happened the last time, he braced himself as he continued.

*Whump* *Whump* *Whump* *Whump* *Whump* Whump*

Not liking the uncertainty he felt about this, he prepared himself for…

*Whump* *Whump* *Whump* *Whump* "Whoa!"

He couldn’t help it. He hollered, and jumped away from the tree as it exploded into a shower of what looked still unbelievably like finished wood. He noticed that several pieces of the wood _popped_ out of view as they blew towards him, and that the rest of the wood had rained down in a small radius around the stump. Taking a steadying breath, he walked over towards the rest of the wood, and imagined it going into the pouches. It was a strange experience walking around a tree stump as wood vanished in front of him.

He didn’t know how he was going to be able to get used to this weirdness, but at the least he was expecting it now, sort of. He continued to work on the trees, moving from one to the next, not really sure how much wood he’d need to build whatever kind of lean to Guile was going to teach him to construct with this strange wood. He also wasn’t sure what he’d use to fasten it together, or what he’d use to secure the fasteners. He figured he probably needed a hammer. Reaching down towards the pouches, he was almost surprised when one didn’t materialize into his hand, which was kind of funny to him when he considered that _not_ having a hammer appear out of thin air almost surprised him.

"Well it looks like culling the trees is lightening your mood at least" his strange guide said, breaking into his wandering thoughts, and low chuckles. "In fact, I think that’s the first hint of a smile I’ve seen anywhere near your face since you’ve woken up," he added, wandering over to him.

Remembering that he’d woke up that morning lying on the ground with no idea where he’d come from was a nice cold wake-up from wherever it was his mind had started to wander. Pausing from his work, he looked at Guile, "About that…"

"No, I don’t know where you came from, I don’t know how you got here, and I don’t know what’s wrong with your memories." Guile answered the questions he didn’t have the chance to ask.

"Wait… I haven’t said anything to you about any of that…" he said feeling a sudden chill that had nothing to do with the rapidly approaching nightfall.

"While that’s not entirely accurate, it doesn’t really matter. You aren’t the first to turn up here like this." Guile responded.

"What do you mean? There are others here who don’t know where they came from? Where are they?" he asked now turning away from the tree completely.

"Most of them are either dead, or have… moved on, as you may hope to do at some point." Guile answered him.

"Wait, _most_ of them? So there are others here then?" he asked again.

"There are many who have come to Terraria, all of whom have a role to play," Guile replied, "But that is not a conversation for now. The sun is mostly gone. It is now time to begin constructing your shelter."

Looking up at the sky, he was surprised to see how low the sun had gotten while he’d been working on the trees. He really had lost himself to his work. Looking around, he was likewise surprised to see how many trees he’d cleared. Biting back his retort, he decided it would probably be in his best interest to go along… again.

"Fine... how much more wood do I need?" he asked, not really giving in, but deciding he’d better get to this if he wanted to have time to pursue this later.

"That’s actually why I came over. You have collected enough for a basic shelter. It will not be roomy, and it will do little more than allow you the opportunity to keep your insides, well... inside, but for now it will suffice." Guile answered.

Putting his axe away and pulling out two pieces of wood, he asked, "So what kind of lean to am I going to be building with these?"

"Is that what you're building?" Guile asked an almost condescending amused look on his face, "Well the first thing you need to do is build a frame. Also, you might want to decide whether or not you will be sleeping on the ground."

"What other options do I have?" he asked, not liking the reaction he was getting.

"You do have enough wood to build a floor." his _guide_ pointed out.

"First you're telling me I need to throw something together to keep myself from being torn to pieces by what you've described as the walking, flying dead. Now you're talking about me taking the time to build a wooden floor? Are you kidding me?" he retorted.

"Let's start with a frame. You can add to that if you decide to do so later." Guile responded, unfazed.

Glaring, he held out the wood, "And how do I do that?"

"I'd start by building up from the ground." Guile answered unhelpfully.

"So what? I just start stacking the wood up," he yelled back throwing the wood to the ground one after the other, "like this?!" he hollered... stopping when he noticed what had just happened.

Now, he was almost getting used to tools and weapons just popping in and out of existence when he tried moving them in and out of his pouch. As weird as it was, at least he knew what was going on. He was also not _comfortable_ with the fact the trees exploded into a shower of finished looking wood, but it was a constant that he could predict. This... this was just something else.

He'd thrown two pieces of the strange wood to the ground. Having _just_ done it, he was sure that he'd not somehow mistaken that... but rising up before him, almost as if it had sprouted from the ground where he'd thrown the wood, was a medium sized square pole of wood coming to about his shoulder height.

Sinking down to the ground in a sitting position with his elbows on his knees, he put his head in his hands. He wished he knew what the heck was going on here... nothing in this world was right. Exploding trees, disappearing tools, bouncing blobs of goo, and now wood that changes shape of its own accord. This was getting ridiculous. Every time he thought he was getting a grip on things, something else comes along to show him that no... he really had no idea.

"I wouldn't spend too much time relaxing" Guile interjected into his thoughts.

Taking a deep breath and slowly counting under his breath to keep himself from exploding from stress, anger, and really, fear of the constant unknown, he slowly replied, his words shaky at first but stabilizing as they continued, "Listen... this is so far beyond the realm of any kind of sense that I'm starting to question my sanity. I would appreciate it if you could at least pretend to be sympathetic."

His voice suddenly taking on that dangerous tone, Guile replied, "This isn't a sympathetic world fleshling. Night is come, and all that you are matters not under the silent caress of the moon. Your guidance is over. I will enjoy watching what comes next." his face devoid of even the hint of warmth, that malevolent presence hovering just out of sight.


	4. The First Night

His stomach dropped. This was really not the time for Guile to be putting on his creepy act. The darkness had not fully descended, but his ears were suddenly aware of every little noise. The bouncing squish of one of those blobs was not too far away, the wind was creating a symphony of rustling leaves atop the trees, and he swore he could hear something else rustling around nearby. Looking to his guide, he wasn't comforted by the icy violence on his face, the small dangerous smirk that only _just_ touched the corners of his lips.

"Okay, no sympathy, just tell me how to finish this structure," he pleaded.

Guile said nothing. His smirk cutting a deeper, colder line into his face, complimented by the unnatural coloring of his eyes.

Jumping at the sight of one of those blobs suddenly coming into view, he nervously stepped out of its path and watched as, *Shlorp* its body once more formed a dome creating a seal with the ground, *Plop* it jumped *fTchsh* landing closer to him anyway. His heartbeat kicked up a few notches, he stumbled backwards, pulling first his axe, but then changing his mind, his sword out of his pouches. He raised it in front of him as if to ward it off, while trying to move once more out of its path.

*Shlorp* his stomach jumped to his throat, *Plop* it launched itself straight at him, "AAAAHHHHHHH!!!!" he screamed, thrusting the sword he had no idea how to use out in front of him.

With what he was sure was the only good luck he'd had since waking up in this cursed place, the sword connected with the blob, its tip just barely piercing the surprisingly elastic membrane holding it together. The blob's mass however carried it bowl shaped over the blade, almost as if it were going to just continue its leap to him right through the blade, before it snapped back the other direction sailing away from him.

Standing there gaped jawed, he felt like everything was happening too fast. He wasn't sure why the blob was coming at him this time, he wasn't sure if the sword had so much as fazed it, and he didn't know if he should run, or keep defending himself. That decision was taken from him however when the blob launched itself once more in his direction.

Screaming, for no reason he was capable on considering, he thrust the sword at the slime again with thankfully the same result. Strangely emboldened by the act and deciding that he was going to take control of something, he charged the slime thrusting the sword out in front of him as he ran. That, he decided immediately after, was a mistake.

Having incorrectly gauged the blobs arc, having not considered the possibility that it might have been capable of adjusting its jump, and having absolutely no idea what he was doing after all, he thrust his sword uselessly below it as thing caught him solidly in the chest snapping the rest of its form violently into his face and upper torso with a force he'd not have imagined something so gelatinous could muster.

The force of its impact knocked him back to the ground, and he just managed to hold onto the sword even as his vision swam from the violence of its blow. Trying to focus his gaze, he managed to regain his vision in just enough time to see it leap on top of him once more.

If he'd thought that first blow had hurt, it was a glancing slap to the second impact. He had not managed to so much as raise his hands to fend off its second assault, and it landed squarely in the center of his body. Latching its perimeter around his sides while the rest of it domed up before bringing its full mass smashing into his core, it used the force of its blow, the same force it used to propel itself across the ground, to do the same, albeit with his much softer body as a platform.

The sound of its jump, which from anywhere else merely sounded like a healthy pop, resonated through him with what felt like a sonic force taking what little breath he had left. He wasn't sure if he could still see for the first few seconds as the constellation of stars that swam before his eyes was far too close to have been real. Not wanting to suffer another blow like that, and not sure if he reasonably could, he pushed through his daze and scrambled to his feet wildly thrusting the sword out around him as he did, using it as much to help him up as to hopefully strike the blob before it could hit him again.

In what was undoubtedly the very last of his luck, he did in fact manage to connect with it. The thing must have just missed him in its last jump as in his frantic struggle to right himself, his sword wildly flaying about, he ended up falling into the blob sword first. The sword first piercing, and then pushing through its membrane, he was more thankful than he could have possibly put into words as he watched it explode in a shower of goop.

Falling to his knees right there amongst the goop his trembling hands still holding the hilt of his sword, which was now sticking into the ground, he felt like weeping with joy. As a reward for his moment of personal reflection, he was knocked face first into the hilt of his sword.

Grabbing both the back of his head where he'd been hit and his forehead that had just recently become close with his sword hilt, he fell to the side and forced himself to unclench his eyes and look up at what he expected to be Guile standing over him with a bag that felt like it was full of sand. What he saw was far worse.

At first, he wasn't sure if he was seeing things, as it almost appeared that the sky itself was peering down at him. Even in his jostled state he knew there was something wrong with that so he tried focusing more on what he was seeing, only to quickly wish that he hadn't.

Suspended several feet above his head, no... not suspended, hovering, flying, swimming through the air, somehow... there were eyes. Not normal sized eyes, which would have been bad enough, but enormous eyes, slightly larger than his head, that must have come from some beast of a size he'd rather not contemplate. There were two eyes, still trailing veins and other entrails that should have never seen the outside of whatever that thing was.

As he watched, one of the eyes came hurtling down at him. Rolling out of the way, the eye crashed into the ground just behind him with a solid *Thunk* that he could feel resonate through the ground. Rolling further and again onto his back, he managed to avoid the second eye crashing down less than an arm's length from his head. These must be the flying dead Guile had been talking about, and he was in no state to defend himself. He was also just barely keeping himself from completely freaking out and this wasn't helping things.

Scrambling to get up and, initially taking off on all fours until he managed to somewhat find his feet, he went for the nearby hills. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he knew he needed to get out of the open. Throwing a glance behind him, he was dismayed to learn that the eyes had wasted no time in following him and in fact, were almost close enough to touch. Losing his precarious hold of balance in his shock, he went crashing to the ground, further damaging his already wrecked person. Bracing for the impact he was certain would follow, he was surprised when the eyes sailed right over him. Having learned his lesson the hard way, he took no time to count his luck and went stumbling off in another direction.

This continued for what seemed an eternity in the night, him running and diving to the ground to avoid the eyes which thankfully did not seem to have an easy time in the air, all the while looking for somewhere to hide. Every dive was closer to his last and he was slowly losing any hope of making it out of this alive. With his body refusing to respond as quickly as he needed, he was reminded none too gently, mid back, with a force that he was shocked didn't fold him in two, why slowing down was not an option.

How something that seemed to struggle through the air managed to present that kind of an impact on a moving target was beyond him. Also beyond him, it seemed, was a place to hide. He realized in a fleeting moment of deeper insanity that even had he wanted to fight back, he'd left his sword behind, still stuck in the earth where the blob had exploded. Struggling back to a moving posture, somewhere between a stumble and a crawl, he scrambled once more forward as the second eye came slamming down behind him.

Gravity, it seemed, was going to be his savior this night, for the next time he fell, tumbling down the side of a hill he didn't realize he was on, he went crashing face first into a small cave that he'd not noticed in his flight. Finding himself thankful for the fickle affections of gravity, he started throwing wood behind him at the opening hoping that the volume of wood, if not its changing nature, would at least block the entrance before one of the eyes made its way in to finish him off.

*KThunk*

The sound of the eyes impact against wood was far more beautiful to him than any sound he could remember hearing. Terrified to look back, but even more afraid not to, he rolled over to take in the makeshift barricade and was beyond the point where seeing the intersecting beams, barely visible in the darkness where he'd just randomly thrown wood, could upset him. The tears he hadn't consciously conjured could have been joy, or fear, or any number of emotions fighting for dominance in the soup of his remaining consciousness, but for the moment, he was behind a barricade that seemed to be keeping the eyes at bay, and that was enough.

*KThunk*

He jumped as an eye slammed into the beams, causing the wood to shudder, before it wobbly floated away making room for the other to...

*KThunk*

He couldn't stop the terror that shot through his spine at each impact, but the wood looked solid enough and seemed to be holding. Lying there in the dirt he wasn't sure he would ever move again, which made it difficult, initially, for him to identify the screaming and thrashing that was in fact coming from him as something clamped down on his ankle.

Trying to wrench his leg free with energy he did not have to spend, he tried looking down at what held him but was unable to discern anything more than a shape reaching through the barricade. The sounds it made however were low and dangerous, a moan that seemed to seep out from a beast that had long ago lost the ability to articulate for itself. This must be the walking dead.

Wishing he’d not left his sword stuck into the ground and reaching into his bag to find something to fend the thing off with, his hand closed around a handle and he swung, what turned out to be his axe, at the thing grabbing his foot. A single blow was enough to cause the thing to let him go, and as he drug himself backwards his heart almost stopped when he felt something cool and solid against his back.

He was beyond reasonable reactions. He was beyond fighting. He was far too gone to do any more than squeak out what he thought was supposed to be a scream as he swung his axe behind him hoping against hope that whatever it was would kill him quickly. The sound of something shattering and the explosion of light were the last things he registered before he fell almost feather like into the endless well of screaming and terror that was his sub consciousness. The world around him moving away, taking the noises, taking the pain, until it was no more than a dot of light blinking out when he could no longer make it out in the distance. His last flit of a thought was thanks for the peace he found at the bottom of the well.


	5. The Second Morning

His first sensation was the hard cold dirt beneath him. As this was one more sensation than he thought he'd ever experience, it was actually a pleasant sensation. His second sensation was the lack of pain. It was so wonderful on top of the first, that he chose to lie there with his eyes closed for a bit and just enjoy the dirt. He decided not to question how losing consciousness in a cave and spending and unknown time lying in the dirt was sufficient enough to allow his body time to recover from the nightmare that was the previous day. The only thing ruining his enjoyment was the strange, soft, but constant noise coming from nearby.

Figuring that whatever it was had plenty of time to finish him off while he was sleeping, he continued to lie there for a few minutes as he went over the events of the previous day. Waking up in an unknown land, dealing with a guy who seemed to know more than he was letting on... and was more than a little on the crazy side, exploding trees, bags that were bigger on the inside, vicious blobs of goo, giant violent flying eyes, and something that sounded like it shouldn't have been. He'd had quite the day, and if he had more of the same to look forward to... he wasn't sure he really wanted to get up at all.

As happy as he was just lying there, his lack of pain and fear reminded him of something he'd completely forgotten about in all the _fun_ he'd been having... his stomach. The strange noises coming from nearby were actually softer than the growls coming from his gut. Perhaps he'd been keeping whatever it was at bay with the sound of his hunger. Deciding he should probably get up and figure out what that noise was, before looking for something edible, he slowly opened his eyes and was surprised at how bright it was in the small cavern.

His eyes gradually adjusted to the light as he sat up, and he looked around for the first time. The cavern was hardly a cavern at all, more a hole in the side of the hill that happened to be tall enough for him to stand in if he so chose. It only went back maybe a few paces, and was just wide enough that three or four people could stand shoulder to shoulder if they were really comfortable with each other. Dirt mixed with a few sections of rock, and the odd vine protruding from the ceiling like a confused plant that didn't know it was supposed to grow towards the sun, not away from it.

The floor of the cavern was littered with broken shards of some kind of clay container, which he reasoned must have been the thing he backed into before he blanked out. Lying amidst the remains was the source of the noise. A few pieces of wood with some yellow glowing goop on the end. The strange thing about this goop, aside from the fact that it was glowing, was that it moved like it was burning... even though it was obviously still goop. The noise was coming from whatever the goop was doing with its moving and glowing.

He reached out for the glowing goop sticks, and was mildly surprised to notice that they were cool to the touch. He kind of assumed that as they looked like they were burning, they'd have been at least warm. Placing three of the four sticks into his pouch, and then pulling them out to see if they were still glowing, which they were, he kept one of them out to see with. It made a nice torch if nothing else.

Looking around using the stick he fully explored the little closet of a cavern. Finding nothing else of even mild interest, he then went up to the makeshift barricade in the opening where the sunlight just barely touched. Knowing how he'd just tossed the wood behind him, it was strange how well put together the whole thing looked. Interlocking beams of wood about as thick around as one of his legs blocked the entrance. The openings just barely seemed small enough to keep those giant eyes out. The fact that he woke up at all confirmed that they were, but it didn't really look it.

He grabbed ahold of one of the beams, and tried to pull it loose. It didn't budge. Not that he'd _really_ expected it to... but it had been worth a try. As good as these beams were at keeping the eyes out, they were just as good at keeping him in. Reaching for the axe he'd recovered on his examination of the cavern, he began working on opening up the barricade. After none too many blows, a cross section of wood just exploded into the finished looking wood that came from the trees. One moment there was a solid wall of intersecting beams with one of them losing very noticeable bites from his axe, the next, it was as if that whole intersection had never existed. The beams that had attached to it were cleanly connected elsewhere and there was no remaining evidence of their previous connections.

Jumping a little at the sudden change, he wasn't as fazed as he'd have been only one day prior. It wasn't that he was okay with the wood changing its shape right before his eyes, but after last night, he decided that this wasn't worth freaking out about. Taking his axe to a lower beam, he removed another intersection and created an opening just big enough for him to walk hunched through. He wasn't sure what he'd be going out into, but he didn't think hiding in a small cave until he starved to death was a good option, so there wasn't really another choice.

As his eyes readjusted to the even brighter light of the sun, he decided to force one of the glowing sticks into the dirt above his hiding place. While the thought of sleeping in the small dirt cave again didn't appeal to him, it was certainly better than the alternative. As he wasn't sure what this day would bring he figured setting it up so that he could find his way back wasn't a bad idea. With that in mind, he set one into the dirt at the top of the small hill he'd fallen down as well. Satisfied that he'd be able to find this location again... providing the sticks didn't just stop glowing, get knocked down, covered up, or carried away by something, he turned his thoughts towards sustenance.

Looking around from his limited vantage, he realized that he had no idea what he was looking for. It wasn't like he had any idea how to hunt, what vegetation was safe to eat, or where to find potable water. Really... as much as he hated the idea of it, he could use Guile's help on this... assuming he wasn't gleefully looking for his corpse.

"So you made it then. Good for you." Guile's voice broke into his thoughts.

Pulling his axe out, he whirred around looking for the source of his voice, "No thanks to you!"

"And what are you going to do with that?" Guile asked from right behind him.

Jumping as he turned to face him with his axe held defensively between them he answered, "That depends. Why did you just stand there while I was being attacked?"

"I tried to get you ready. I warned you all through the day. The fact that night caught you so unawares was your fault, and your fault alone." he answered a weary sound in his voice.

"Yeah, well there's a difference between being unsympathetic, and telling me that you will enjoy watching me get torn limb from limb." he replied angrily.

"I also told you that this place gets to me from time to time. Between that, and a full day's warning, your reaction is rather comical." Guile informed him.

"What are you talking about!?" he screamed his retort. "You were ready to gleefully watch me torn limb from limb! That's a little more than _This place gets to me_ covers!"

"You're rather stuck on that aren't you." Guile answered unfazed by his rage.

"Of course I'm... GRAARGAGFRMGMGAGH!" he raged ineffectually. As much as he hated it, yelling at Guile wasn't going to benefit him at all. In fact, trust him or not, Guile was his best source of information in this place and up to this point, he'd not _actively_ tried to harm him. Turning to wale away at the nearby trees, he let out his frustration in what he felt was probably a more productive manner. After felling a few trees, he calmed down enough to put away his axe and turn back to Guile.

"Just tell me what I'm supposed to eat around here," he asked with no pretense of civility.

"Well, that depends on how much work you want to put into it. If you're just looking to quiet the roars of your gut, you can eat those mushrooms over there, if you're..." rushing over to where Guile was pointing, he noticed that Guile's voice faded out.

  Crouching down, he grabbed at one of a cluster of the substantial looking orange and red spotted mushrooms that Guile had indicated. As hungry as he was, he spared no thought for the potential side effects of eating a raw unwashed mushroom from the ground, and was only prevented from shoving bits of it into his mouth by the thing's insistence on staying firmly where it was, rooted to the ground. After a few hearty pulls, he kicked the thing, and was only rewarded with a slight shudder from the surprisingly durable plant.

"Why won't you let me eat you!" he shouted at the mushroom.

"One cannot generally eat what one has yet to harvest," Guile responded instead.

  Glaring in response, he retorted, "I'm _trying_ to _harvest_ it, but it doesn't seem to _want_ to be _harvested_ ," kicking it again to make his point.

"You look more like you're trying to attack it with your feet," was the response he got.

  Taking a deep breath instead of yelling again, he slowly bent down and pulled firmly on the mushroom instead, looking up sharply at his _guide_ when that also did nothing, and snapping, "Kicking, pulling, it doesn't matter, what, do I need to do, i _magine_ it going into my stomach? Cause I got that covered!" he ended, his voice going up a notch anyway.

  With a smirk Guile answered him, "It matters not _what_ you're _imagining_ if you're using the wrong tool for the job."

  Glaring, he pulled the axe out and swinging it almost against the ground, he tried to imagine it chopping the mushroom free. As the axe came close to the mushrooms, all three _popped_ up from the ground without the axe even needing to make contact. He glared at them for a moment before they bounced towards him and vanished from sight, causing him to jump as they did.

"Where did..." he began to ask, but a moment of insight caused him to reach into his pouches, where he did in fact find that the mushrooms had gone, much like the wood from before. Pulling one out, he was caught off guard by how much smaller it was in his hand than it had been when it was still planted in the ground.

"What happened to it?" he tried asking.

"It moved into your pouches after you harvested it from the ground, as you seem to have already discerned for yourself," Guile answered.

  Biting back an annoyed response, he instead clarified, "What I meant was, why couldn't I pull it up but all of them just jumped off the ground when I swung the axe at it, and why is it so much smaller all of a sudden?"

"Well then you should have asked _that_ instead," he was answered, causing him to clench his teeth, "To the first question, _you_ are not of this world and as such, _you_ are incapable of bringing change upon it without the appropriate tool. As for the second the mushroom, much like the wood, is a product of the land's magic and as a result, does not need to be any particular size to retain its potency."

  This was too much. He decided that now was not the time for ridiculous conversations about tools and changes and instead decided on a different task. Eating. After waking up hungry, raging at Guile and then felling a few trees had done nothing positive for his hunger. Guile had said these were safe to eat, and as he was in fact trying to silence the roaring of his gut, he decided he didn't really care to think too hard about it.

  Taking a bite from the mushroom he winced as the rest of it vanished from site. Even then, he continued to chew and swallow the bite he'd taken.

  The texture was nothing like he'd expected from something as tough as the mushroom had felt, and though he'd taken a modest bite, it seemed to be an entire mouthful. It was also just barely chewy, and mostly flavorless. When he swallowed, he was treated with a strange sense that the food was sliding down his throat, as if it had used his swallowing as a cue to head that way. The timing of it was _off_ just enough... though it didn't choke him, so tried not to think about it too carefully.

  One mushroom. That was enough to sate his hunger. He couldn't believe it. He had approached the trio of mushrooms expecting to devour them as an appetizer before looking for more, even considering the size they were before, but one mushroom had done it. And it was a strange sensation the fullness provided at that. He didn't feel f _ull_ as if he'd eaten a large meal, but _full_ as if he'd not been hungry in the first place. As if his hunger had just been washed away. He had no desire to eat even one more mushroom, so with a shrug he left the other two in his bag.

"About that, how long will these keep in... there" he asked, gesturing towards his bags.

"As long as you need." was Guile's response.

  Accepting that without question, he decided that now that his hunger was sated, he should probably move up the chain of needs, and as such asked, "Sooo... now are you ready to tell me how to build someplace to sleep tonight?"

"That depends. Are you ready to actually build something this time?"

  Not taking the bait, he retorted, "Just yes or no."

"Follow me" was the reply.

He followed Guile down the hill, and through the lightly wooded area. After a little bit of walking he noticed a clearing up ahead. Not a natural one, but the remains of his previous attack on the forest. It wasn't as far away as he'd have thought after the nightmarish race from the evening before. Protruding from the center of the clearing was the beam he'd unintentionally set and none too far away the sword was still marking the spot where he'd killed the blob. Walking over to look at the beam, he wasn't as weirded out as he'd been then.

"Soooo... the wood doesn't stop changing after it's been chopped then. I mean, I just threw two pieces of wood out here, and this is what I got. Something similar happened last night when I fell into a cave... except that time a whole barrier popped up. Is that all there is to building a house? Throwing wood?" he asked.

"Your question is ridiculous. Yes, you can throw wood into walls as part of making a house, but without direction you're not going to make a house as much as a clump of interconnected beams," Guile answered him. "First you need to put up a frame. After you are finished with that, I'll show you how to make walls."

"Okay, so I just need to plan where I'm throwing my wood then? I can do that." he replied.

He pulled his sword from where it stood, stuck into the ground from the night before and began drawing a line in the dirt, starting from the beam. Walking off about a dozen paces in one direction before dropping another two pieces of wood there. Looking down at the ground, he was frustrated to see that the wood was just lying there in the dirt.

"What the heck!" he yelled, "Why did that wood," pointing at the beam, "change, and this wood not?"

"What were you thinking when you dropped that wood?" Guile asked him.

"I was trying to drop two pieces here. Just like I threw those before!" he responded rather heatedly.

"Yes... but were you trying to build something this time, or just trying to set them down?" Guile asked, as usual not responding to his heightened emotions.

"I was setting them there to mark the corner so that I could finish planning this thing out!" he replied still frustrated.

"So, two dropped pieces of wood serve that function just fine then." was Guile's response.

Taking a deep breath, he chose a different tact. "Okay then, what should I have been thinking. And how in the world can the wood even tell!?"

"You seem to enjoy having me repeat myself. The wood is a rich product of the Magic of this world. It feeds off that magic from the acorn up and as such it responds to any attempt at manipulating it. You were intending to use that wood as a marker. It doesn't need to change to serve that function. If you were intending to build a corner there, it would have responded to that intent." Guile explained.

"What's the difference? Marker, corner, it's the same thing! It's not like it's hard to retrieve the wood once its built up." he fussed back, losing steam as he did.

"Intent is the difference. Just like when you were felling the trees before. When you were trying to force a change onto them, they did not respond. When you allowed your tool to affect the change, it was easily done. Your will is important in your actions, and the sooner you learn this, the easier things will be." Guile answered.

Muttering under his breath, he picked up the wood, and decided to set a corner at the end of his mark before dropping the wood again. This time the wood did indeed respond to his intent, and changed into a beam right in front of him. More frustrated than shocked, he continued drawing out the rest of the outline and set beams in all four corners.

"So is that as large as you'd like it then?" Guile asked when he set the last beam.

"No, this is just the entry hall. I figure I should have enough space for my guests to change comfortably before they enter the foyer," he snapped in response.

"Oh, well in that case, carry on." was the reply.

"Of course this is the whole thing!" he shouted in exasperation, "How can you go from insisting I build a hole to hide in to asking if I'm building a manor home?!"

"What you build is entirely up to you," Guile responded, "Though... if you get too carried away you will, of course, have to gather more wood."

"Greahhhrggeedabah!" he shouted, as he started throwing wood along the line in between the beams set in the corners of his outline in an attempt to focus on something other than Guile's infuriating senselessness.

The wood thrown along the line was _intended_ to make up the rest of the frame, much like the barrier he'd accidently made back in the cave, and though he was doing little more than thinking about that as he threw the wood, it still came together on its own. He wasn't at a point yet where his stomach didn't tighten as he watched the wood change shape so dramatically while he just threw it out there. He was composed enough though not to freak out about it.

A few minutes after he'd begun, a rectangular frame was standing in front of him. With interlocking beams that he'd learned last night were small enough to keep the flying eyes out, and far more wood than should have been there based on the pieces he threw out. While building up the walls, he decided to raise them up a little higher than just taller than him, which was as easy as tossing the wood on top of the existing structure.

Looking over at Guile, "Now What?"


	6. For Walls

"If you are content with what you've got so far, we can work on walls, and a roof. Technically, the roof will be more of the frame, just overhead, but you can construct it however you'd like."

"Wait as second, how do I... no never mind," he stopped himself from asking, and pulled out his axe to remove two pieces of wood, "So I'm going to have to keep removing and adding this wood every time I want to get in and out of this thing?" he did ask.

"If you so desire. Though I'd think a door would be simpler." Guile replied.

"A door? What, do I just think _door_ and throw the wood at the opening?" he asked as he tried just that. The wood just added itself back to the frame.

"No, a door requires a little more than just intent."

"Great. What do I need to do, sing the door song? Dance the door disco? Maybe I should whisper quietly to the wood before I gently set it in place and ask it to be all the door it can be!" he shouted.

"You can do whatever you want, but unless you start by building a workbench, none of it will work." Guile responded, infuriatingly level, with a maddening glint of humor in his eyes.

"A what?" he asked, forcibly trying to calm himself down before he blew his top, which would make the entire process even more difficult.

"A workbench. You'll actually need one to create the walls, so you might as well put one together after you finish with the roof."

Recreating an opening, after a few failed strikes at the beams in his temper, which certainly didn't help his mood, he walked into the rectangular structure and started chucking wood up at the top to frame the roof. Even throwing wood at the side of a structure caused it to take shape as a part of the whole. He was taking advantage of his temper and not thinking too hard about the whole thing.

Looking around at the finished frame, he was surprised at how sturdy the whole thing looked. He could believe this thing, in its current state, was plenty enough to keep the eyes away. His faith was in part thanks to having seen the barrier work the night before, but also because the whole thing just had a very solid look to it. Measuring that against the time and effort put into it just didn't add up, and thinking about it wasn't worth it.

"Okay then. How do I go about building a workbench?" he asked.

"Well, first things first, you will need ten pieces of wood so you might as well pull them out together," his guide began, "And before you ask yes, you can pull them all out at once, and no, it will not be a giant stack of wood, at least not in the way you're thinking... unless of course you pull them out individually, which really isn't necessary."

Trying it on his own before he asked, he reached into his pouch and tried to pull out a bundle of 10 pieces of wood, not sure what to expect. What he got was indeed a bundle of wood, though its number wasn't visibly apparent. It was hard to explain what he was seeing. Several pieces of finished wood were stacked together, bound by nothing he could see. But though he could tell there were many pieces of wood there, they weren't "in focus?" It was almost like he could see several pieces of wood at the same time occupying the same space, as if they weren't fully opaque, but they weren't really transparent either. And the whole thing, while larger than a single piece of wood, didn't weigh, or indeed feel like any more than one. His eyes began to feel strained as he looked at it, so he turned his gaze towards Guile, who was just smirking at him from the other side of his structure.

"Very good. Now you need to start envisioning a workbench as you begin to assemble the wood. It should be pretty straightforward from there." Guile informed him.

"How can I envision something I've never seen before?" he asked. "When you say _Workbench_ I just picture a small table, maybe waist high, just big enough to set things on as I stand beside it..." he trailed off, realizing as he spoke that he really did have an alarmingly clear image of a workbench in his mind's eye... even though he had no recollection of having ever seen one before.

Kneeling down in the dirt, he pulled a single piece of wood from the bundle, and set it up as a leg. He did this three more times before he put beams connecting the four legs in place and finally the last two pieces he set on top creating the surface, and finishing the workbench. The whole thing kind of came together of its own volition, with his hands following some greater design. And much like the structure surrounding him, the workbench was both surprisingly solid and seamlessly held together.

Etched into the otherwise smooth surface was a rather crude representation of the trees that were used in its construction. Running his hand across the surface he noticed that the image, while looking etched, didn't actually break the smoothness, and had that eye-strainingly solid, but not, look to it that a bundle of wood did. It also held some kind of... energy. Sort of a gentle thrumming that he didn't really see, or feel, in a way that he could describe to someone else. He didn't quite know what to make of it.

Standing up, he backed away from it slowly. After a few steps the thrumming stopped, and a light shiver danced down his spine as his body adjusted to the loss of the strange sensation. "Okay then... Now what?" he asked, not sure he wanted to keep working with this thing.

"Now that you've got a workbench, you'll be able to build a much higher range of things. The workbench focuses more of this world’s magic than you can currently focus on your own", Guile informed him from the other side of the bench. "To make a door, assemble six pieces of wood into the frame, and just as happened with the workbench, it will come together from there."

Pulling six pieces of wood out, he tried to figure out how to put them together in any way that resembled a door, and had no luck doing so. "Yeah... it's not working."

"You're standing too far away from the workbench. Typically you'd build the door _on_ the workbench, but you don't necessarily have to. You do however have to be close enough for it to focus energy into your construction." Guile instructed him.

Not liking the idea of being too close to the thing, he figured it didn't _hurt_ him... it just made him feel strange. Then again, everything in this place was pretty strange so what could it hurt? Stepping back up to it, he felt that same _thrumming_. This sensation must be the energy the thing was focusing.

Placing the wood onto the workbench, it was pretty obvious what he'd been doing it wrong before. That fact kind of upset him. Just being near this thing was enough to mess with his mind. What else was going on that he wasn't quite aware of... Putting the wood together as a door, and watching it change shape dramatically to become the door, didn't upset him as much as just knowing how to make it happen did. He noticed also, that as the wood began taking on the shape of a door, the thrumming of the workbench intensified.

Lifting the door, he wasn't really surprised by how light it was. Walking over to the opening in the frame, he tried to find a way to attach the door, with no luck. There were two problems. One, the door was taller than the opening, two, the door didn't have any obvious method of affixing it to the frame. Figuring he could resolve the height problem himself, he leaned the door against the wall, and took his axe to one of the beams above the opening. Just as before the opening was cleanly extended upwards, and now seemed to be the perfect size for the door.

Placing the door in the frame he watched, frustrated, as the door simply fell through the opening. Angry, he walked to the other side, picked the door up, and threw it at the opening trying to get it to _just work_ , which of course it did, fastening itself into the frame as if it had been built into it from the beginning.

"You've got to be kidding me... Do I just have to throw things around here to get them to work?!" he shouted at no one in particular.

The door opened out towards him, and Guile answered from the other side, "No, you just seem to focus the right way when you're angry. Perhaps you should figure out why that is, and then you can build as you wish. Unless of course you want to build things in a temper... as you've been doing, there's nothing wrong with that." he finished with a wry smirk.

Taking a deep breath before he answered, "No... I don't like needing to be angry for things to work. In fact, I don't particularly like being angry at all. But ever since I've woken up yesterday, everything I deal with has just been ridiculous!" he ended with his voice raised.

"Ridiculous as compared to what exactly?" Guile asked him, giving him a look that seemed to see more than it should have.

"I... I don't know." he admitted, "I just know that nothing here seems right, not even you, and every time I turn around I'm having to deal with something else that works or acts in a way that I don't understand. I'm just waiting for you to freak out on me again and tell how awesome it would be to dance in my vivisected remains, but it's not like I have any idea what I'm doing without you so I have no choice but to hope you feel generous enough to teach me how things work before you do!" he vented.

A low hallow chuckle that seemed to come from the air around him, a glance that was as much Guile as it was _something_ else, and shiver that dropped from the base of his neck to the base of his spine before splashing back to settle beneath his shoulder blades, was the reply he got. Backing a few steps away from the house, he looked up to see that Guile was looking through him again with the surreal color in his eyes, a color that he only really noticed when Guile was acting up.

A voice that whispered along the echoed remnants of Guiles low chuckle began, "How little you understand your plight. You speak of ignorance as a curse, and yet, it is the last blessing remaining to you." the voice seemed to drift lazily through the air, visibly coming from Guile’s lips, but audibly ignoring that point of origin, "Heed your instruction well, while you are allowed it, and perhaps… You will survive long enough to cast off your blessing in whole," the last few words crept up from behind him and faded just as they reached his ear, taking the shiver with them as they did.

His shoulders relaxing a tightness he'd not noticed setting in, the fading voice took that look from Guile's eyes with it as it left. The strength seeped out of Guile as he leaned onto the door frame and collected himself before looking up at him. "Let's finish these walls then."

"You're really not going to explain that to me, are you?" he asked.

"You've got the workbench, so really, you're almost there." Guile answered, either missing his question, or more likely, dodging it. He decided not to pursue the issue and instead followed Guile into the frame.

Standing beside the workbench, he knew what he had to do to put the walls together. Without asking his guide, he took a piece of wood out and pressed it onto the workbench. The thrumming of the workbench increased and the wood flattened out, taking on the shape of four small wooden panels. He bit down his unease and placed those into his bag. Pulling out another piece of wood he continued this process for a while.

The work was mechanical and after a few pieces, he allowed his mind to wander a bit. What was he doing here? Not literally, and now, but going forward. He didn't know where he came from, so it's not like he could just jaunt back home. And even assuming he knew where he came from, he didn't know where he was currently, so with no basis for direction, he could wander forever...

And what should he make of Guile. There was obviously something very wrong with him, and true, he'd not actively tried to harm him in any way so far... but he wasn't so sure he liked relying on him as much as he did. Guile did say something about there being others... perhaps he'd find one of them and see what they knew.

So what next? Here he was building up a nice little shack in the middle of nowhere, but to what end? Was he planning on holing up there until he was educated on the way of the land? How long would that take? He was just going along with Guile to keep some kind of forward momentum at this point, and until he was more confident in his knowledge of the world around him, he decided that he might as well keep playing along.

"You do realize," Guile interrupted his mind's wandering, "that you can process an entire stack of wood at once. I was reluctant to interrupt such an introspective moment, but if you wish to finish this structure before night rises again, it would certainly speed things along to do so."

"Why are you helping me to build this structure anyway?" he asked, still processing the wood as he had been.

"Again with having me repeat myself, there are things..."

"No! I mean, Why? Why not leave me to get eaten if it would bring you such joy. Why not just go on about your own way and ignore me. What's your motive here." he interrupted both Guile and his work.

"As I said in the beginning, I am here to guide you. That is my role to play." Guile answered.

"And who gave you this role?" he probed.

"That is not important. You should be more concerned with your role than with mine." was the answer.

"O.k... then what's my role?" he asked.

The small smile that peeked from the corner of Guile's lips brought that _presence_ with it. In the same low hollow voice from before he answered, "That, is for you to decide. Your life is yours to end as you wish and I wouldn't dream... of changing that."

Fighting the chill that wrapped around him as Guile spoke, his attempt at an aggressive reply sounded meek even before he opened his mouth, "And what if it's not my life I choose to end?" he managed to get out.

A deep cruel hollow laughter that filled the entire frame slowly seeped from Guile lips, resonating with and possibly amplified by the walls, far louder than any one man should have been able to produce. Not only just the frame, but seemingly everything within it too. The laughter, devoid of any semblance of mirth, seemed to course through every fiber of his being, drowning out the resonance of the workbench, as if to demonstrate how insignificant he was, even just in comparison to the sound of his voice. Making it worse was the lack of any real expression on Guile's face beyond the slight smirk and the icy gaze.

Too shaken up to consider a rebuttal, he wasn't sure what to do from here, though he was positive he didn't want to take his eyes off of Guile while he was like this. As the laughter faded, even the resonance of the workbench was a welcome sensation.

"Fleshling, you do amuse me. Play your role well enough, and perhaps I'll allow you the opportunity to make that choice." Guile responded.

Fighting the urge to run, he instead stood his ground and waited for Guile to continue. After a few moments of forcing himself to meet Guile's gaze, he broke, and looked down at the workbench. The hollow chuckle dropped with Guile to floor on the other side, and he looked up to see his guide take a shuddering breath that did nothing to interrupt the slowly fading sound.

Losing his strength now that the presence had left, he too fell to the ground and almost broke down in his frustration. This, was the person he relied on to teach him how to survive. He could almost believe that everything he did was in fact, just one more step on the path to his own demise. Upsetting as that was, it was worse to think that he was almost okay with that, so long as he did in fact get to choose his path up to that point.

"So," Guile spoke up from the other side of the workbench, sounding as if he'd just barely summoned up the energy to speak, "ready to finish these walls now?"

He couldn't help it. He laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation, tears threatening to compliment his inappropriate response, "Sure."


	7. The Second Night

Getting up, he reached into his pouch to see how many panels he managed to produce. Closing his eyes, he sensed a large stack of panels among the other contents. Focusing on them, he _knew_ somehow that there were 188 in that stack. Both the total, and his strange confidence in their count surprised him. These bags must have an endless capacity for holding things. Feeling around some more, he counted 82 pieces of wood, his sword, his axe, his pick-axe, two sticks with that glowing goop on them, two mushrooms, 19... he had to pull one out and look at it to be sure, but he did indeed have 19 giant acorns, which he assumed came from the trees, though he'd not noticed them at the time, and one small green blob.

Opening his eyes, he pulled the blob out of his pouch to look it over. It felt strangely solid in his hand. It was definitely gelatinous, but the outer membrane felt pretty substantial. Toying around with it for a moment, he realized it must have come from the blob he killed the night before. This was probably its heart, or something like that. It was strange to hold it, remembering how barely he'd managed to destroy the thing.

Putting the blob back and taking a panel out of his pack, he walked over to the wall. Looking up at the sky through the frame, he was surprised by how far along the sun had gotten. It wouldn't be too long before nightfall. Figuring if he was going to get this done, he'd better start now, he walked over to the corner and tried to place the wooded panel over the frame near the floor.

At first, nothing happened, and the panel just set there in front of the frame. Taking a deep breath and focusing on what he was trying to accomplish, he picked the panel back up, and tried to press it into the frame, so that it would become a part of the wall. As the panel connected with the frame, the entire corner changed to accommodate the wooden panel. Strangely, both sides of the frame, in a section hardly the size of the panel originally, were covered by wooden paneling. While he hadn't expected the outside of the frame to change as well, he was happy not to have to worry about doing it as well.

Placing a second piece of paneling above the first, and then another above that one, and two more before throwing one into the corner at the ceiling, he was happy to note after testing it out a bit, that the entire column of paneling was seamlessly integrated with the frame. Setting a panel in at floor level again beside the column he'd just finished, he continued solidifying the frame.

The entire structure took a good chunk of the remaining sunlight to finish. As the sun hit the tree line he was most of the way through, but to help him see without needing to worry about the fading light, he stuck one of the glowing sticks into the ground in the center of the frame. After finishing the walls, he sealed up the ceiling, leaving two panel spaces open in the ceiling, and one panel space on each side to provide a little bit of light and air to the structure.

All through his work Guile paced around the room, not meeting his eyes, and occasionally wandering outside, but never going too far. He was surprisingly irked that Guile seemed content to let him do all the work, but didn't feel it prudent to harass him about it. Besides, it wasn't like it was difficult work, just time consuming. After he finished though, he was appreciably tired, and a little hungry. For a moment he considered sitting to relax on the workbench, but as he approached it, a better idea came to mind.

Pulling out four pieces of wood, he placed them one leg at a time, onto the workbench, and as he set the last leg in place, the workbench thrummed, and the wood took on the shape of a chair. Knowing that it was the influence of the workbench that gave him the idea, and not quite liking that, he busied himself with a second chair before taking them away from the bench and setting them against the wall furthest from the door.

Pulling one of the two mushrooms out of his pouch, he ate it, again washing away his hunger, and offered the other one to his restless Guide.

"No thank you." Guile responded.

Placing it back into his pouch, he asked, "What has got _you_ so antsy? All yesterday and earlier today you've been content to just stand around watching me work, but it seems as the night's grown closer, you've not been able to keep still."

"If you're lucky, I'm just restless." was his answer.

"And if I'm not?" he asked.

"Pray that you are," was his only response as he looked out the opening closest to the door.

He moved one of the chairs over to the open panel on this side of the structure and looked outside for himself. The sun had finally set, and evening was slowly creeping in. He couldn't continue to ignore the panic that had been building up in the back of his consciousness while he'd been working. What if this wasn't good enough? What if the eyes and the walking dead could get to him in here? As solid as the whole thing looked while he'd been building it, he suddenly felt exposed. He tried to remember which way they'd got here from, so that he could possibly find that cave again.

"The moon is rising. You'll be safe tonight." Guile said to him, causing him to jump, as he'd lost himself in his concerns.

"What?" he asked, a little more anxiously than he would have preferred.

"The moon, it is rising, and there is nothing to worry about for tonight." Guile repeated himself unhelpfully.

"Okay then... So if the moon wasn't rising I'd have something to be worried about?" he tried asking again.

"No, a new moon is no reason for concern if you are safely ensconced for the evening." Guile replied.

  
"You know what, forget it. I'm just glad you're not freaking out on me again tonight. I'm not interested in trying to translate your crazy right now. All I care about, is that you're sure this thing is going to keep the eyes and the walking dead out... right?" he asked instead.

"The structure is solid. The Zombies and Demon Eyes will not find their way in tonight." Guile answered, not really comfortingly.

"Wait, they won't find their way in tonight? What is that supposed to mean? Are you telling me they're going to eventually break their way in, or that you're going to wait until I've gotten comfortable trusting this thing before you decide to let them come in and tear me limb from limb?" he shouted, standing up and putting the chair between him and Guile... not that it really afforded any kind of protection.

A smile crept into Guile's face, though not the cold threatening smirk, just what looked like genuine amusement. "You truly trust me so little?" he asked.

"Now who's the one asking stupid questions?" he retorted. "It's not like you've really done too much to endear yourself to me."

"Be that as it may, I've also not done anything that would cause you harm. In fact, I'd say my actions have done you nothing but good since you first awoke, small verbal tics aside." Guile stated.

"Small verbal ticks?! Really?! There's something seriously wrong with you, and _Small Verbal Ticks_ doesn't nearly cover it." he shot back.

Chuckling now, Guile merely shrugged and looked back out the opening near the door. Turning towards his opening, his stomach dropped at the face filling the hole.

He wasn't sure what he'd expected the walking dead to look like, but a face that almost looked like it had been human at one point, before the elements had taken their toll was rather horrible to behold. Falling over himself in a rush to get away from the thing, he also fell over the chair, and ended up rapping the side of his head rather soundly against the workbench. The stars he saw were very close, and to punctuate the fright, the thing began a low moan that seemed to seep out of it, and cut its way through the wall and into his bones. It was a horrible sound, and added to his recent impact, it was all he could to to keep his stomach.

Guile began to laugh a bit more earnestly, and it wasn't hallow, or empty, just inappropriate, and aggravating.

"What's so funny!?" he half shouted, squeezing his eyes shut as he held onto his head where it had connected with the bench.

"Even knowing that you're safe within these walls, you still jump at the sight of a Zombie." Guile responded, the laughter still evident in his tone.

"I don't _know_ I'm safe yet," he snapped back, "I won't _know_ I'm safe until I make it to tomorrow," he added, looking up as he did to see if the Zombie was still in the opening. It was not, and his gut lurched once more, "Where did..."

*KThunk*

He could have sworn the structure shook with the impact of what was probably one of those eyes.

*KThunk*

Accompanying the impact was a hollow moan, this time cutting through the roof instead of the wall he'd been standing next to. And of course, the Zombie's face was filling one of the openings on the roof.

*KThunk*

He was starting to freak out. His heart began racing, the room was suddenly far too small, and who was he kidding about this thing being solid. He had left holes all over it, and walls were nowhere near thick enough, any moment one of those things out there would come crashing through, _The Door_!

Looking over to where Guile was standing, he suddenly realized how thin the door he'd put together was, and not only that, but any moment now Guile would probably start acting up and decide that it would be fun to let the walking dead into the house. As if in response to his rising fear, the door shook with the next *KThunk* from one of the flying eyes.

Shaking in terror, sweat suddenly soaking his dirty, trouble torn clothing, he was very aware of every little noise and how incapable of protecting himself from anything out there he was. Using the workbench to help pull himself up, he didn't trust his feet as much as he would have liked. Walking over to Guile, he stammered out, "Ju.. ju... ju... just, get away from the door."

"This... door?" Guile asked, a too innocent look on his face as he stepped towards it.

Almost sick in his fear, his insides felt as if someone had taken an icy grip on them as for a few brief seconds he thought Guile was about to open the door. Falling forward he reached out to stop Guile from doing so, and ended up landing on the door instead.

The moaning sound was coming from right on the other side of the door, and to punctuate it, a slow but steady knock began as he fell against the door. His heart nearly stopped until he realized he hadn't accidentally opened it, however he was afraid to move, even though he could feel every knock in more than just a physical sense. He wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to hold onto what little composure he had left.

"It sounds like they want in." Guile chimed in from right behind him.

"Getababablay" he slurred his words in response, wildly flaying his hand behind him to ward Guile off, his mind vividly running through all the different way in which a human body could be pulled apart through a doorway.

*KThunk* The door shuddered, he lept backwards screaming, trying to get away from it expecting zombies to come pouring through. He was confused by the sudden silence before a hand grabbed his shoulder sending him jumping forward to the wall beside the door and face to face with something that had maybe once looked human. Its reaction was instantaneous, one moment it was close enough to whisper secrets from beyond the grave to him, and the next, its hands were through the opening, clawing for purchase on his scalp. One hand managed to get a good clump of hair tangled into its putrid grasp and the thing attempted to pull him through the opening with an alarming strength.

The screams that filled the structure were distant and detached, almost as if they belonged to someone else. His mind had left, and any sense of control or composure had left with it. His world was a whirlwind of barely felt sensations, happening almost in slow motion. His face was being repeatedly crushed against the frame around the opening as he fought the zombie trying to pull him through a hole far too small to fit through. The creatures moaning were now mixed with an almost excited sounding screechy hiss that accompanied its assault on his skull.

Trying hopelessly to pull its hands from his scalp, he didn't even have the frame of mind to pull a weapon out. As his fingers sunk into the rotting flesh, he stomach didn't bother to respond with the sickness he would have normally felt. It was too busy trying to escape the body that was stubbornly refusing to fold up through the little opening in the wall.

In a desperate effort to break free, he used the wall to brace his feet as he pushed away from the opening. He could hear as well as feel the hair being pulled from his scalp as he managed to break free from its grip. The last thing he heard as his head connected rather soundly with what he imagined must have been the workbench, was a cruel low laughter that carried his consciousness into the rapidly encompassing darkness.


	8. A Brighter Day?

This wasn’t a pattern he wanted to get into. The last night had certainly been better than the first, but waking up lying in the dirt, with no idea what to expect when he opened his eyes was not a lifestyle he wanted to continue. Listening to the sounds around him, he could hear one of those glowing sticks not too far away, and the sounds of morning in a lightly wooded area from slightly further away. Even the sound of a blob bouncing its way somewhere in the distance was fine by him. What he didn’t hear was anyone, or anything else moving around nearby. Opening his eyes, and adjusting to the sunlight, he verified both his presence in the small structure and the lack of Guile.

On one hand, he was glad to know that this thing could weather the night just fine. On the other hand, he knew that Guile could change that at any moment. And there lay his problem. The one person he had met in this twisted land was also his largest concern. How could he ever sleep comfortably through the night knowing that at his demonstrably unpredictable whim, Guile could decide to end his nap with a gory snack. The thought of waiting until nightfall to place his life once more in his "Guide’s" hands almost made him physically ill. It didn’t help that he’d awoken ravenous again.

Sitting up, he pulled the last mushroom out of his pouch, and quenched his hunger, also placing the torch from the floor back into his pouches while he was thinking about it. It was a strange sensation having his hunger just wash away the way it did, but he wasn’t in a position to argue with it. Standing, he checked himself over to see if he looked as good as he felt. He didn’t. Running his hands over his scalp, he could tell where he’d lost a large chunk of hair… and even though the skin felt fine, the hair had not returned. With the way he seemed to recover overnight just lying in the dirt, he’d almost expected his hair to return. His clothing still retained the dirt, and now some blood from the previous nights, and it was getting far worse for wear.

Looking out the opening near the door, his heart sank as he noticed Guile pacing around none too far away, and certainly close enough to hear him try and sneak off. Sinking back to the floor, he considered his options. He could try and make a run for it. He knew enough now that he figured he could hunker down and survive the night on his own. The only problem there was that even when he’d run off the night before, Guile had still found him. So this didn’t make him any safer.

He could threaten Guile… but even trying to work out how he’d do that wasn’t realistic. He could try and injure Guile enough that he couldn’t follow him… but he had a feeling trying that would end very badly for him. It’s not like he had any experience in combat, and Guile had made it very clear that he wasn’t afraid of the things of the night. So his only real option was to keep playing along until… he wasn’t sure when.

"So you’re awake then?" Guile’s voice cut as usual into his thoughts from outside the opening.

Trying to be reasonable, he considered that Guile really could have either killed him, or let him get killed any number of times already. So whatever game he was playing at… at least for now, he didn’t seem to want him dead.

"Yeah… I’m awake," he answered grudgingly.

"So what are you planning for today then?" Guile asked him.

Surprised by the inquiry he mentally stumbled for a moment before responding, "I… hadn’t gotten that far. Don’t you have more you want to teach me?"

"Well, there’s plenty I _could_ teach you, but it’s up to you to decide what you wish to learn," Guile replied as usual unhelpfully.

"Except, the things I want to know, you refuse to answer," he snapped a little more aggressively than he’d intended, "so what good are you!?" he shouted, jumping to his feet and slamming the door open to punctuate his point.

"I have never refused to answer your questions. You just don’t like the answers you get, and that’s not something I can fix." Guile quipped back, looking characteristically unmoved by his sudden outburst.

Muttering under his breath, he decided that arguing wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Walking out into the daylight, he tried to take in the surroundings without the sense of unease that had colored his previous examinations. It helped that the clearing he'd set up in seemed to hold a healthy elevation in relation to much of the surrounding terrain. As his unease had yet to depart however, this was still easier thought than done.

The clearing was hardly more than a few dozen yards in any direction before the hills began their haphazard runs, and out from the front of his structure the hills seemed to rise higher than in any other direction. Far enough in that same direction, he could see that the sky was heavily clouded through the tops of the hills.

Out to the left from the structure's entrance the hills rolled until they started carrying a thicker wooded coat of trees that carried far more coverage than the strange bob topped trees where he was. These hills eventually started climbing into a mountain range far in the distance, shedding their coat as they began towering over the lower hills.

Out to the right of the structure, more rolling hills, and only a mild covering of trees as far as he could see. A river snaked its way from somewhere behind him and originating in the mountains, ran off into the trees... branching its watery veins as its distance increased. Eventually the land surrounding the water was soggy with its run, and it became harder to distinguish where one began and the other ended. The trees seemed fuller, eventually becoming an unbroken canopy in that marshy distance.

Behind the structure, the hills were rather thick, and far more roughly hewn than those headed off in the other directions. From his vantage point, cliffs and sudden ravines were plainly visible. It was difficult to make out any other defining features amongst the rough shapes.

It seemed odd to him that he just happened to be set up somewhere conveniently central to such a wide variety of terrains... but as Guile had certainly intended that, he wasn't really too surprised. What he was supposed to do from here though... that's where he was drawing a blank.

Pacing the clearing as he considered what he should do now. He poked around the trees as he did, and managed to find another three mushrooms which he then stored in his pouches. Deciding that he'd like to sleep on something other than the ground that night, he went to ask Guile what his options were.

  
"Well, you could build a wooden floor, if it's the dirt that bothers you. Otherwise a bed makes a good sleeping place." Guile responded.

"Well of course a bed's a good place to sleep, but how the heck am I supposed to build something like that?" he asked.

"It's easy enough. You just need to use fifteen pieces of wood and five pieces of silk at a sawmill to construct a bed." was the answer he got.

"I use what at a where?" he asked, "I mean, where am I supposed to get silk from, and how the heck do I build a sawmill?"

"Those are two very different questions, but the answer to both can be sought simultaneously. You won't _find_ silk, you need to make it from cobwebs at a loom. And before you ask," Guile stopped him before he could ask, "you can also build a loom at a sawmill. Now as to the sawmill itself, you will need ten pieces of wood, two iron bars, and an iron chain to put it together at the workbench."

His head reeled at all the different components Guile had just casually thrown at him. Silk, cobwebs, iron chains and bars, a loom and sawmill, and "Oh, is that all?" he spoke out loud.

"Actually, no. To make the iron bars, you'll need to smelt some iron ore at a furnace. And in order to get the chain, you will need to process three iron bars at an anvil." Guile added.

"Are you kidding me?" he asked. "I just tossed together an entire structure over the course of a few hours, and you're telling me that to make a fricking bed, I'm going to have to gather and build a laundry list of machines and parts!" he ended up shouting.

"I am not kidding you." was Guile's infuriating response.

"Graahhhggg…" he started, but then took a deep breath and tried again. "So, where do I start then?"

"You need to gather the material you will need for these projects. Before you do, let me show you how to use your pickaxe," his guide answered, walking back into the little structure.

Following Guile, he pulled the pickaxe out of his pouches. "Why are you showing this to me in here?" he asked.

"While _you_ may be fine with a dirt floor, _I_ would prefer wood." was his response.

"Wait, _you_ would prefer wood? Why does that matter? Are _you_ planning on staying here or something?" he retorted, rather miffed at the idea of Guile taking up up residence in the structure he'd built.

"I don't see any other buildings around here for me to stay in," Guile replied.

"Are you freaking kidding me!?" he shouted, "You had me do all this work for _you_! I thought you said _you_ had nothing to fear from the night, so why would _you_ need to stay inside!?" he raged.

"How do you go from, _I have nothing to fear from the night_ to _I enjoy sleeping outside_?" Guile asked simply.

"How do you go from _When you've been here as long as I have_ to _Thanks for building me a place to sleep!?_ " He yelled back.

"You know, I didn't actually thank you," Guile responded, "So thanks." he added, with a little smirk.

"You know what! I don't need your help figuring this thing out!" he shouted, shoving the pickaxe back into the pouches, "I'll figure it out on my own!" he continued, stomping out through the door, and slamming it behind him as he left.

He couldn't believe the nerve... no, that's wasn't right. He could definitely believe the nerve, but he couldn't believe... what? He wasn't sure. The more he thought about it, the less surprised he realized he should have been. This was just another notch in the line of ridiculous things he had to endure from Guile. At least, if he knew where Guile was, he didn't have to worry about him sneaking up on him. And who was to say he couldn't build another structure for himself. Sure, it was a lot of work, but it wasn't like he didn't have the time for it.

Deciding that he didn't need to storm off in a huff, he stopped himself before he got too far and went back to the structure. Guile was just pacing around in front. "Back so soon?" he asked.

"Just show me how to use this thing," he snapped back, "I'm sure I just hit stuff with it while I envision great caves, and whatever I hit explodes into a shower of small dancing figurines, but I'll let you explain what I should do with them from there before I have to find room for an entire dance troupe in my pouches."

Guile just gave him look that didn't seem to be too amused, and walked into the structure. Following behind, he just stood in the doorway waiting for instruction.

"It only takes two strikes from the pickaxe to remove a section of dirt," Guile told him, as he gestured to the ground.

"And then?" he asked.

"Why don't you just try it," was the response.

Pulling the pickaxe back out, he bent over, struck the ground with it rather soundly, and was less than impressed when it stuck in the dirt. Yanking it back out, he hit the dirt again and watched as it stuck itself once more. Taking a deep breath, he pulled it out and this time tried to imagine the pickaxe clearing a section of dirt as he struck the ground.

On this strike the dirt in the area around the pickaxe's impact shuddered, almost water like, or blob like, as he hit it rebounding the pickaxe with noticeable force. Somehow, with that strike, he also knew that the ground immediately beneath where he was hitting was solid. It was a strange sensation, almost a flash of insight similar to how he was able to envision the items in his pouch. Stopping for a moment that insight faded and he struck the dirt again.

On the second blow the same area shuddered, and then snapped into itself with a light *Pop*, somewhat like the blobs did when they jumped. This image was emphasized when the now more compact dirt chunk seemed to launch itself at him immediately after snapping down on itself. Jumping back with a "Hwha!" he stumbled and managed to catch himself on the door frame before toppling over, dropping his pickaxe in the process. Looking around, he realized that the dirt must have gone into his pouches, much like the wood did when he’d been gathering it before.

Pulling the dirt chunk out, he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. On the one hand, it definitely _felt_ like dirt. His problem was that it didn’t fall apart like dirt should have were he to hold a clump of it in his hands like this. It was almost as if the dirt was being held together by some kind of invisible membrane. Dropping the dirt clump onto the ground, he watched as it flexed on impact, but then pulled itself together in a rather tidy little clump, leaving no residue on his hand, nor breaking apart on the ground. He almost expected it to have bounced.

"Seriously?" he asked, looking up at Guile now.

"I haven’t said anything."

"Let me guess… I’m not _digging_ dirt, I’m _making_ dirt clumps," he asked putting a sarcastic note into his tone as he bent over and grabbed the little clump of dirt.

"No, you’re mining the dirt. That’s just how the magic of this world presents it to you. It would be rather difficult for you to manipulate the terrain if you had to do it without help." Guile answered.

"Wait, I’m _supposed_ to be manipulating the terrain?" he asked, confused by this potential implication.

"What do you think building a place to sleep is? How would _you_ describe everything you've done so far?" Guile asked him.

"There's a difference between putting up something to sleep in, and terraforming the land." he retorted.

"Is there?" Guile responded simply.

Glaring at Guile, he snapped back, "Outside of the obvious difference in scale, there's a difference in _intent_ which from what you've told me matters the most here!"

"Which is why you had to try a second time to mine the dirt."

"You just enjoy giving me a hard time don't you?" he said, forcing his words out through a clenched jaw.

"What I enjoy is not having to constantly repeat myself. Unfortunately, I do not get that pleasure very often," Guile answered, with an exaggerated sigh.

Taking a deep breath, he didn't give in to his growing anger. He was sure that Guile was prodding him, and as he was still trying to reconcile the implications of what he’d just managed to do, he was also sure that hollering at his guide wouldn't resolve anything. Playing with the little clump of dirt, he calmed himself before putting it up.

Getting back to _mining_ , he struck the area beside the section he'd just removed. After two blows it too came up. Looking into the hole he noticed that not only had the two cleanly combined, but the entire small ditch he'd made was almost the same depth. The same thing happened with the next two sections as well, which left him with a small hole right inside the door, big enough for him to curl up in.

Pulling a piece of wood out, he set it into the hole _intending_ for it to build up the floor, and the wood became a single short beam. Setting another piece beside it, the two came together as a similar support structure to what the walls has initially become. After placing a piece in the other two sections, there was an obvious intersected set of support beams that he was sure would make for a good base.

He went through the rest of the structure, digging up the dirt and replacing it with wooden support beams, even going under the walls so that the whole thing was enclosed by wood. When he was done, the entire structure seemed made of a single interconnected series of beams designed as they were set, and seamlessly built into the surrounding dirt and rocks. It seemed, just as the structure alone had, far more solid than the effort to build it would have indicated. Pulling the wooden panels out, he covered the floor with them, and now it was both solid, and level.

"It looks like you've got the hang of the pickaxe now," Guile's words cut into his admiration of his work.

"Yeah," he replied, putting the tools and building components into his pouches. Looking at Guile, he decided to ask, "So... where do I find all these things I need?"

"Well, most of it can be found in the caves that run beneath the majority of the land. You won't need to go too deep, in fact, I'd advise against it initially, but there is much to find none to many feet below the earth." Guile answered him, "Though before you go, I'd recommend building a wooden sword. It will serve you far better than the copper short sword I gave you initially."

"Wait, that doesn't even make sense. How in the world could a wooden sword be better than the metal sword I've already got?" he asked, "And more importantly, why do I need a weapon? Are you saying that it's dangerous to go looking for these supplies? Am I going to have to fight something for them?" he added.

Guile took an exaggerated sigh, "The wood drinks the magic..."

"Okay, okay, I get it," he interrupted, "But why do I need a weapon at all? What am I going to run into down there?"

"I thought the need for a weapon had become apparent over the last two days." Guile stated dryly.

"I thought the fact that I don't know how to defend myself had become even more apparent," he snapped back.

"You must fight the same way that you mine," Guile informed him, "Your problem currently is that you try relying too much on your own skill, which is frankly lacking, and not enough on your weapon."

"Wait, what do you mean by that?" he asked, not sure how to do what Guile was suggesting.

"I mean exactly what I've said. Your weapon has the strength to protect you, if you allow it to do so," Guile supplied, unhelpfully as usual.

"So I should just wave it around in front of me and imagine that the things attacking me are dying?" he asked incredulously.

"If you wish to die, that would certainly accelerate the process," Guile informed him.

"Why do you always have to answer my questions with obscure statements!?" he shouted, "How do I let my weapon protect me? Just give me a straight answer!"

Guile's countenance immediately changed, "You do not appreciate my _straight_ answers fleshling," he said, that almost smile and remote sense of violence revealing themselves in turn.


	9. "Forging" a Weapon

Stepping back towards the door he replied, "And here you go freaking out on me again! If you’re not twisting your words into nonsensical answers, you’re acting like this!" he shouted, still moving towards the door one step at a time, "And I'm really getting sick of both!" he said reaching his hand behind him for the door handle.

As if he didn't have enough to keep him from sleeping at night, Guile's next move would certainly haunt his evening attempts at respite. As his hand closed on the handle Guile moved from the wall, as his eyes began closing to blink, to the middle of the room, as his eyes closed, to mere inches from his face when his eyes reopened. He had crossed the room in less time than it took him to blink, and it didn't look like he'd moved his body at all. His breath stopped in his chest, and his heart nearly followed suit.

Guile leaned a little closer, his head almost right beside his own as he spoke, "So what... are you going to do about it?" in a voice that lazily made its way across the short distance between them, only adding to the insinuated threat of violence that saturated the air.

He didn't really think about it. One moment he was too terrified to move, and the next he was plunging his sword into Guile's abdomen. Or at least he would have been... had Guile not moved faster than should have been possible once more, now standing just out of his reach, that dangerous smirk unmoved by his attempted assault.

"Just like that," Guile congratulated him, the _compliment_ at odds with the low danger in his tone, "Only... I'd suggest practicing on the slimes... assuming you intend on surviving the rest of the day."

He couldn't believe he'd struck out like that, though this only confirmed the fact that he'd have had no chance trying to take Guile in a fight.

"A weapon cannot protect you on its own. Your questions are flawed," Guile responded to the question he'd asked before, completely dismissing his attempted attack, "You ask that which you could easily discover on your own. Your insistence on questioning every little thing only prolongs the inevitable, one stupid question at a time."

"But you say that you're my _guide_!" he retorted, putting the sword up, and still shaking with the realization of how powerless he truly was.

"And so I am. It is my role to _guide_ , not _coddle_ you," was his response, "If you seek knowledge you could not possibly acquire on your own, _I_ will decide whether or not you need it, and _I_ will provide answers as _I_ wish. Such is my role... for now."

There was nothing for it. He couldn’t fight back, he couldn’t really argue, and he was beyond the stage where this little act of Guile’s was enough to shake him on its own… "Fine. How do I make a wooden sword?" he asked, head hung in defeat.

His dangerous smirk spread into almost a smile, "Now that’s better," before Guile’s shoulders and head mimicked his own, "If you stand by the workbench..." he responded, sounding weary once more.

Wincing, he replied, "Yeah... yeah..." he still didn't like even being _near_ the workbench, let alone using it to build things. As Guile walked over to the chairs set on the other side of the room, he walked over to the workbench and upon feeling it’s gentle thrumming, knew what he needed to do.

Pulling out two pieces of wood, he set them side by side on the workbench. Pulling out two more, he pressed the center of them into the first two at a 90 degree intersection almost a third of the way up the wood, forming a cross shape. Setting two more pieces extending out from the long end of the cross’s tail, he finally completed the thing by pressing a single last piece into what was obviously the blade.

The sword came together a bit differently than the chairs before it had. He still felt compelled once he began construction of it, but instead of taking shape at the end, it almost seemed as if it were molding itself as he put it together. After pressing the final piece in, the sword lying on… no above… the workbench, was a work of art. He was so impressed by the weapon that it took him a moment to fully register that it was floating a few inches off the bench.

Stepping back, enough not to feel the benches resonance, he saw the sword drop to the surface. Taking a step forward, the sword once again lifted off the workbench, sending a slight chill down his spine. It wasn’t so much that it freaked him out, which was becoming harder and harder to do, but that he could _feel_ the weapon as it lifted from the table. Reaching his hand towards it, he was only mildly surprised when he found himself holding the sword without having grabbed it from the workbench.

Looking the blade over, he was impressed by how sharp and dangerous the thing looked, while still seeming to be… _alive_ was the only word he could think to describe it. The wood didn’t seem as inanimate as the wood in the structure surrounding him, and while it didn’t thrum like the workbench, it certainly felt vibrant, almost as if it would grow were he to plant it. The blade was also wider, thicker, and longer than the blade on the sword he’d used before had been.

The grip was also thicker, and far more comfortable in the hand. Looking at the point where the blade met the grip, he noticed the same tree from the workbench etched into the wood, with the same eye straining effect. Surrounding the tree here however was a circular border that seemed to be etched with leaves and branches, a design that wrapped itself around the wings on the sword’s grip ending in a flair of leaves. It also descended down to the very bottom of the sword where an acorn seemed to be sprouting the entire thing.

As strange as it was, he couldn’t help but feel that this wooden sword was more substantial than the metal sword he’d been using before had been. It wasn’t just its size, the weapon seemed to have a more serious… heft… to it, without really being any heavier. Overall, he felt that the wooden sword was indeed a better weapon, and he'd not even used it yet.

Moving the blade through the air, he could tell that the weapon wouldn't be as good for jabbing things, but with its size, it would do a good job slashing at things. It was a strange thing to know, and as he had no real combat experience, he assumed that it was another intuitive thing from the magic of the world. He wasn't quite sure how he should feel about that.

With weapon in hand, he did feel confident enough to go out and practice defending himself, in the daylight at least. It was strange how much difference this sword made in his willingness to fight, even in the waning discomfort Guile had just inflicted upon him. Looking out the opening closest to the door, he saw that the sun was just over halfway across the sky.

"So... you said something about practicing combat with the… slimes?" he asked, remembering what Guile had been calling them, but without looking back at him.

"Yes."

"What do I do? Just wander around looking for the bouncing blobs of goo, and then charge them?" he tried again.

"That's one way to do it," Guile answered.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to just head out and figure it out on his own. This was obviously going nowhere, and he really didn't feel like trying to find the _right_ question for Guile. He did have one more question not related to fighting though, turning to look at Guile this time he asked, "So what do I need to look for again?"

"You can look for whatever you wish," was Guile’s unsurprisingly unhelpful response, "Now, if you're asking what you need to gather to build your bed, you need 20 units of stone, 30 pieces of iron ore, both of which yes, you can mine with the pickaxe, 50 pieces of cobweb, 42 pieces of wood and one gel," he rattled off.

Trying to commit that to memory he asked, "Wait, what is _gel_?"

"You can use it to create torches, and you currently have one in your pouches," Guile answered him.

Remembering the little blob he’d found in the pouches earlier, he pulled it back out and looking at it, realized that it was in fact the same kind of goop that was on the end of the glowing sticks he’d found in the little cave, only, it didn’t glow, "And so I get these from hunting the slimes? What is it anyway?" he tried asking, "And who put that pot in the cave that I found on my first night here?"

"The slimes and pots are both byproducts of this world’s magic. Gel is the concentrated essence of that byproduct that forms as a slime grows," Guile surprised him by answering, "As to the pot, the world gathers the remains of the many who fail to survive in Terraria and strips them of their belongings, forming pots and even chests to contain portions of their final possessions. The little that is left is typically found by slimes and carried away," he appended, "You can sometimes find useful things in a slime’s remains."

"So those glowing sticks I found before..."

"Torches, and they belonged to someone who no longer has need of them," Guile confirmed, "Speaking of needing torches, why don't you leave one of them here in case you don't make it back before nightfall."

"That's not likely," he replied, though he took one of the two remaining torches out and tried handing it to Guile.

"No, just set it in the wall somewhere," Guile responded.

With a hunch at how this would work, he tried placing the torch _into_ one of the walls, and was unsurprised when the wall and torch bonded, holding the light up as if it had been built into the structure.

Pulling the gel back out with a piece of wood, he wondered at how he could get the gel to glow on the end like the torches he'd found before. Looking at the two items in his hands, he wasn't really thinking about that… but he also wasn’t sure what the feeling growing in the bottom of his gut was. Realizing while he tried to identify it, that he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to find more gel, he decided not to try figuring either out for the moment.

"Well," he said, putting the gel and wood away, "I'm off to practice combat with the slimes," before turning to walk out the door. Stopping on the other side, he tried his luck with another question, not bothering to turn around to ask it, "So... if the slimes are just byproducts of the world's magic... are they even _alive_?"

"Does that matter?" Guile asked him.

He wasn't sure why he'd asked, so he didn't really have an answer, closing the door he responded more to himself than Guile, "I guess not."

* * *

Watching the door close behind the builder, Guile experienced the first twang of hope he’d felt in a very long time. He had resisted it with the workbench, but now the sword… This one may not be very proactive, but it was obvious that the world was resonating through him…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes:** It's funny (To me at least. ;P ). The entire section from Guile recommending he build a wooden sword, to Guile's retort that he's not there to coddle him kind of grew from how I'd initially written it (Including Guile's wigging out). I'd just moved from the MC asking about how a wooden sword was better, to him asking about how to build one when reading over it I realized that not only was it strange for him to just accept the need for a sword, what with his amazing combat prowess, but that Guile's response seemed just a "Nip" more critical than he usually gets when he's not being all creepy. What that means is that the characters are really starting to form up, which will become a little more apparent soon enough.


	10. The Lay of the Land

Looking at the surrounding terrain, he decided not to go too far today. While he’d love to sleep in a bed, he didn’t think heading out halfway through the day to find things he had no idea how to find would be wise. He’d seen what the night brought, and while sleeping through the evening had somehow made him physically well the two nights prior, he didn’t want to test the limits of that. His goal for the moment was to find, and try his hand at defeating, one of those slimes without allowing it to seriously injure him.

Walking to the top of the large series of hills straight out from the front of his structure, he intended on using this new vantage to see what he could see while listening for the tell-tale sounds of a passing slime. As he crested the top however, a light breeze surprised him with a crisp cool edge that seemed out of place in the otherwise warm weather. Closing his eyes, he let himself just enjoy the sun and gentle breeze that rustled the leaves and danced through his ruined hair and tattered clothing. He allowed his mind to just wander for the first time he could recall since waking up two days ago.

_What brought me here?_ He idly asked himself, though he had no answer. Try as he might, he was unable to remember a single thing before waking up to Guile's smug expression. And the strange thing was, it didn't really bother him. There was no sense of loss, no desire to recover whatever was before… nothing. His only real concern at this point was whether or not he’d be able to face a slime and walk away unscathed. There was an underlying desire to sleep in a bed, instead of on the floor… but that was it.

That, actually bothered him though. He was sure this was something else that the _Magic of the Land_ had done to him. It was clearly capable of getting into his head… so where did it stop? It was hard to imagine that he’d just been dropped into the world full grown, carrying nothing but the clothes on his back. So why didn’t it bother him more? Chuckling a little when he realized that he was worrying about not worrying, he was also glad that he was able to actually chuckle about that. It was nice, even considering the discomfort, to have a few moments where his largest concern was his lack of concern. Taking a deep breath before adding his breath to that of the hill's, he let himself just be...

*Shlorp, Plop, fTchsh*

He snapped back to the now. He'd been lost enough in his thoughts that as he opened his eyes, he was surprised to note that a blue colored slime was bouncing his way.

*Shlorp, Plop, fTchsh*

Pulling the wooden sword out, he tried to figure out how to _let_ his weapon help him by taking a few practice swipes at the air between him and the slime. As he was just barely cognizant for his first fight against a slime, he really wasn't able to contrast how the weapon handled in comparison, but he felt like it was better. As he swung the weapon, he tried to imagine it cutting through the slime with each swing.

*Shlorp, Plop, fTh..up, fTchsh*

His sword, swung in a downward slice, connected with the slime midway through its jump, its mass folding over the blade before sending it bouncing backwards. He hadn’t intended to swing it quite like that, but it worked. Stepping forward, the blade seemed to move on its own as he continued his assault with an upward slice that connected with the slime's next jump. With his next step, he could feel the sword _thrum_ as he connected with the slime in an angled cut that tore through the things membrane and showered the area with its slime.

The sensation of winning a battle that not too long ago would have torn him apart was invigorating, like a cool breeze for his already growing confidence. He looked around and was actually disappointed when he didn't find another slime nearby. The remains of the slime had quickly melted into the earth, and all that was left of his victory was the sense of triumph he felt. Reaching into his pouch, he noticed that there were also two more _gels_ as Guile had named them. It was a little unnerving to have things just show up in his pouches… not that magical pouches that held an unnatural amount of things was that "Normal" as a matter of fact, even the…

"No!" he shouted to the trees and grass, startling a few little white birds out of the branches. He was moving forward. There was a lot that he didn’t understand, but he had been doing good at going with it. Taking a slow deep breath, he closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the trees swaying in that crisp breeze, and let his concern ride the currents away from him.

Opening his eyes, he looked around from his new vantage, and decided that the view would be better from the top of one of these strange bob topped trees. Evaluating the selection at the top of the hill, he settled on the tallest of the copse and moved to climb it. Standing at its base and looking straight up the clean trunk, he didn’t really know how he was going to get up there. While trying to figure out a potential solution using his pickaxe to assist him in climbing, a better idea _occurred_ to him. He was almost wary about its origins, but decided to stop that train of thought.

Pulling a piece of wood out of his pouches, he lifted it over his head and placed it beside the trunk. Pressing it towards the tree, the wood narrowed and widened enough that he could use it as a step. After widening, the wood fastened itself to the tree, much like the torch had fastened itself to the wall of his structure before. Testing the strength of this step by hanging from it, he wasn’t so sure he trusted it to hold all his weight, even though it was supporting him hanging. For a test, he placed another piece of wood nearer to the ground on a slightly different face of the trunk, low enough that he could climb up and stand on it, as much as he could given its limited surface. It widened and fastened itself just the same, and also had no problem holding him up completely… even when he tried testing it by bouncing on it while holding onto the trunk. It didn’t so much as flex.

Climbing from the first step to the second, he carefully put another piece of wood up and onto the tree back in line with the first step, and then climbing on that, another over his second, so that his steps were zig zagging up the tree. This made it rather easy for him to use them as foot and hand holds as he scaled the large almost featureless tree. Reaching the top, he decided to try building out from the final step. Placing a second piece of wood adjacent to the last step, it widened and fastened itself seamlessly to it, forming what amounted to a small platform protruding out from the tree. Climbing on this, he decided to add two more pieces of wood along each side giving him enough room to stand or sit comfortably without worrying too much about falling off.

From his new vantage, he could see farther than he’d initially anticipated. The hill opposite the side he’d climbed plummeted abruptly into a sheer cliff that dropped unceremoniously into a lake. So smooth and perfect was the crystal blue water that he could see through to the bottom on the end nearest him. Further out the lake deepened, eventually taking on a shade of blue that he was at a loss to define. Further yet, the lake began to lighten in its color until it was softened by a thin veil of ice that was covering it, which then led to his first surprise.

While the air and environment on his side of the lake was more or less warm, and very green, the other side of the lake looked as if it was the middle of winter, complete with a gentle snowfall filtering out from the darker clouds he’d noticed peeking over the hill before. Snow so thick he couldn’t imagine its depth blanketed the ground, and beyond the thin veil of ice on his side, the water touching the opposite bank was completely frozen over. The change was dramatic, and more than just a little unsettling. This explained the breeze he’d felt before, but that did little to console him. Looking beyond the bank, he saw a landscape ravaged by the snow winding and hopping along with a deepening darkness that carried darker clouds and heavier snow the further inland it got, eventually obscuring his vision completely.

Looking at the sky, he noticed that the clouds hung statically over the far bank. The heavens it seemed had drawn a line that the clouds were unwilling to pass. As if in petulant protest, the clouds responded to this invisible barrier by keeping a steady snowfall that edged out over the water a little bit with a playful breeze that did nothing to disturb the water’s surface. The entire scene gave him a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature.

Turning his gaze, he looked to the right of the hill from where he’d climbed, and saw nothing new in the lower landscape that eventually became a marshy wetland with a thick covering of trees in the distance. To the left it was also the same, nothing new, rolling hills that grew thick with a heavier tree off in the distance before eventually climbing into the mountains. Back towards his structure however he could see further beyond the clearly visible building into the roughly hewn chasms that gouged the landscape.

The terrain was certainly erratic but even more than that, it seemed to take on impossible structures. Small chunks of land were isolated, seemingly suspended in space, from the rest of the land in several places. As the sun was further along he couldn’t see into the chasms, the shadows played with the shapes making it difficult to really tell if he really saw what he thought he was seeing.

Far out into the distance beyond the ragged earth was a darkness that seemed to be deeper than the sun’s shadow would have warranted. It was too far to make out any anything else, but just looking at it made him uneasy. There was something visibly wrong with it, that much was apparent even at this range. Shaking it off, he decided that he’d seen enough for now. It was probably time for him to head back.

Climbing down the tree, he didn’t think he’d have time to really do any more exploring before night crept up on him. He did happen to hear a few more slimes nearby, which he was sure he’d have time to hunt. Heading off towards the noises of their passing, he did miss the well-dressed gentleman stumbling around through the woods in a daze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes:** Heh, his shout of "No!" was really just echoing my shout at him. ;P And while I haven't explicitly spelled it out in the story, he cannot jump his height (Like in the game) so he will be working around that limitation in a more "Relate-able" fashion.


	11. A Visitor in the Night

Delivering the final blow to a third slime, he was simply brimming with self-satisfaction. He'd not felt this good ever. In this moment he truly felt master of his own destiny. Turning at the sound of what he assumed was another slime, he raised his sword to attack and saw that two slimes were in fact coming his general direction. A small part of him almost felt bad, as were he to ignore them the slimes would just continue along their way, occasionally stopping to pick up whatever shiny thing they came across per Guile. Knowing however that these slimes were merely constructs of the world’s overflowing magic kept him from worrying about it too much.

Having only taken on the slimes one at a time thus far, he figured this was a good opportunity to show that he'd mastered the use of the sword. Stepping towards them, he took a swing at the closest blue slime, his sword cutting through the air in a downward slice that knocked it back closer to the green slime that almost seemed to have been following it. Stepping forward before it had the chance to retaliate, he swung the blade sideways catching both slimes in a single slice. Continuing his attack his next slice was an upward cut that thrummed along the blade as he caught both slimes once more mid-jump. Moving in, his next angled cut missed the blue slime but caught the green one tearing it apart on contact.

The blue slime had compressed itself to the side causing his cut to miss it. Angling its jump from its sideways form, it managed to catch his arms from underneath as he was finishing his swing. Latching on to his arms and lower torso, which momentarily prevented him from attacking and pulled him forward on top of it, the slime snapped its body up taking his breath away and knocking him and his sword separately to the ground in the process. Pushing himself up, he didn't manage to move quick enough and the slime was on top of him once more.

This time the slime managed to fasten itself to his face and the force of its blow, while dangerous no matter where it connected, was even more violent when his skull was the target of it assault. The almost sonic impact resounded through his entire frame shaking him up as much as it hurt him. The world was now a spinning mess of colors and sounds that he was incapable of deciphering. On the one hand he knew that he was in danger, and that the slime would take this opportunity to cause him even more harm, but he was incapable of finding his hands, let alone the weapon or the slime. Flaying wildly with whatever he could move in his current state, he felt the misleadingly soft pliable surface of the slime's embrace before it used him as a springboard once again, now taking the remainder of his breath, which he direly needed.

Rolling sideways, he tried scrambling to a standing state while desperately gasping for air, but was rewarded by the slime's affections on his back, driving him face first into the dirt. This was not how it was supposed to go. He'd mastered the sword, he was in charge of his fate, and yet... the slime seemed not to have been let in on that. His head and ears pounded with the bass of the slimes attacks, his vision swam, still not coming into focus.

The second time he was forced to the ground was once more than he thought he could endure. With every blow his body felt more and more like mush. Perhaps this was how slimes were actually formed... from the remains of the unwary travelers that they managed to catch. Reaching out and praying for his sword, his vision still not fully returned, he could have cried when his hands closed around the hilt. Rolling onto his back and bringing the sword up, he'd barely managed to get the point into the air when the slime came down once more, this time landing on the blade and exploding into a shower of goop that he was only too happy to wear.

Suffering no more blows, the first thing he noticed as his vision slowly began to refocus was that the sun had begun hiding beyond the hills. In his excitement over winning against the slimes he'd lost track of time and now after his near loss, it was far darker than he liked. Climbing unsteadily to his feet, he noticed that his wooden sword was still lying on the ground nearby. Looking at the weapon in his hand, he realized that he’d actually pulled out his metal sword earlier. He thought that perhaps it would be a good idea to keep two weapons on him going forward.

As the ringing in his ears began to subside and he could reorient himself, he discerned that he was not too far from the structure he’d built. He was about halfway down the hill, and just a little more towards the mountains than he’d previously been. Putting up the metal sword, and picking up his wooden one, he realized that he was also out far later than he liked and he started for the structure as fast as he trusted himself to go.

The sounds of the forest that only moments ago had been mere background noise were heavy with potential violence. Every rustle a zombie waiting to come crawling out from the brush, every low moan of the wind carried a demon eye simply biding its time before descending upon him. All the courage he'd felt while fighting the slimes was washed away by the chill night air that came with the setting of the sun. The light was mostly gone and fading fast, and he quickened his pace.

A low moan that could have seeped from the very trees punctuated his journey and added a sense of urgency to his already hurried pace. Rustling that now was obviously not just in his dark imaginings was coming from the trees in a direction he was hard pressed to identify, and less concerned with on any account. He was now running through the trees, hoping that he’d not overshot his structure by some life ending degree and realizing now how foolish he’d been to think he’d mastered the sword before.

*KThunk*

The top of a nearby tree shuddered with the impact of an unseen eye, and he stumbled upon hearing it, but caught himself and continued his run for the questionable safety of his structure. His entire mind focused on the path ahead, the underbrush was now a set of obstacles rife with danger.

The clearing came into view, and his structure was a shining beacon unto his sight. As he hurtled towards the door, his eyes couldn’t help but to track a bright glowing form falling from the heavens casting off prismatic shards of light as it hurtled toward the ground behind his structure. Almost falling over himself in his distraction, he refocused on his building as the glowing form crashed into the ground in a shower of light, brightening the entire clearing with its multicolored glow. As unnerving as this was, the danger he felt was greater than his curiosity. Throwing open the door upon reaching it, he slammed it shut behind him before falling in an exhausted heap on the floor.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were coming _home_ tonight," Guile said from across the room, causing him to chuckle in a defeated manner.

"I wouldn’t really call this place a _home_ ," he breathed out, too happy just to be there in one piece to let Guile’s cheek bother him at the moment. He was also trying to catch the remnants of his breath that had begun eluding him as he’d neared the structure, only now realizing how much he’d missed them, "but I guess it’s as good as I’ve got," he appended.

Pulling himself up, he looked around the sparsely decorated room that he was just realizing could actually be considered his home for the time being. That was not a thought he’d had the last time he was here, and not a thought he was sure how to process. On the one hand, it was nice to have a _home_ … on the other, Guile also seemed to insist on residing here, and he wasn’t too keen on that. As his pulse slowly moved towards something resembling a normal rate, and the terror that had been building on his mad dash towards his _home_ , bled itself off, he took in the room anew.

A workbench, two chairs, and a torch… so this was home? Looking towards Guile, he was distracted by the prismatic light coming in from the hole in the wall behind him. Remembering the object that has come careening out of the sky while he was running toward the structure, he started walking over to the opening for a better look.

*KThunk*

The sound of a Demon Eye knocking on the walls brought him out of his momentary daze. A Zombie’s empty moans provided the backdrop to what otherwise might have been a solo bass beat against the structure. Stopping to shake off the chill that raced along his spine with these new sounds, he decided to trust in the strength of the structure he’d built. Taking a calming breath, he continued to the opening, careful not to stand too close, and looked out to see what that glowing thing was.

"It’s a fallen star," Guile answered the question he hadn’t managed to ask.

The name did nothing to normalize the object laying in the dirt none too far from the structure. Its shape was hard to discern due to the ever changing spectrum of light and prismatic shards that it cast off, coating the entire clearing and inside the structure in its opulent glow. He was mesmerized by it, enough so that it took him a moment to register the noise coming from outside.

"Wreaaaaaaarrrrrgggg!!!"

It was screaming, but not a moaning kind of screech like the zombies made. It was a full throated, warm blooded, scream of terror that had to have come from another person. And it was outside… in the night… where the walking, flying dead staked their claim. The sounds of the demon eye, with zombie backing, faded with that scream. They had heard it too… and they were going to investigate.

"Guile! What do we do?!" he shouted, looking at his guide for some kind of answer.

" _I_ will stay inside the structure where there is a distinct lack of the undead. _You_ may do whatever you feel necessary," was the answer he got.

"I thought you said you had nothing to fear from the things of the night?!" he retorted, not believing… though also not surprised by Guile’s answer.

"I also have nothing to fear from long walks off of short cliffs, and that is in large part due to my choice of walking routes."

"So you’re just going to sit here and let someone possibly die…" he started, but then stopped as soon as he realized that it wasn’t really Guile that he was arguing with. Guile’s stance was nothing new, or really surprising. The truth was that he was afraid to go out there, but he couldn’t just ignore the screaming he heard…

"Wrrraaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrggggghhhhhaaaaaaa!" the scream picked back up, coming from what couldn’t have been too far away.

He didn’t give himself time to think, as he wasn’t sure he’d like the answer he came up with. The terror he’d only barely managed to shake was back in full force as he opened the door and ran towards where he thought the screams were coming from.

He had made it halfway up the hill before his mind even took a moment to register where he was headed, thankfully before the structure had completely left his field of vision. Continuing up the hill, he hadn't really considered what it was exactly that he intended to do. He was doing good in just pushing on with the fear holding tightly to his insides. The thought of coming face to face with one the walking dead without a wall between them... was not something he had to imagine anymore.

Cresting the crown of the hill, a zombie was seemingly waiting for him behind one of the trees at the top. He'd not even managed to catch a glimpse of what was going on up here before a vision of rotting sloughing flesh came to take his attention away. Calling the zombie undead came with the implication that it had previously been un-undead at one point. This creature only resembled a living thing in the loosest of fashions. As if the bodies of unlucky travelers which is what he assumed they must have been, were being controlled by a consciousness that had only seen humans once they'd ceased being, and wasn't quite sure how to move all the limbs. The result was a shambling mess of a creature.

He hadn't been prepared for this. Stopping long enough to get a solid whiff of putrid flesh, he pulled the sword out just as the zombie seemed to realize it had been staring at something it could eat. His sword came up in time for _his_ hands to sink into the soft rotted flesh of the zombie's core as the blade pressed cleanly through and the clawed remains of _its_ hands came up to rake the soft flesh of his face before the sword coaxed it back from him.

The creature really didn't like the sword any more than he liked the new decorations it left on his face. As he cut into it the zombie took what he could only describe as a _hop,_ backwards. The impulse to draw the sword surprised him as much as the fact that he didn't run as soon as the thing came out from behind a tree. He could only imagine that it tied in with the same impulse that drove him out of his shelter and into the night when he heard the screaming. An impulse that he was quickly realizing was probably going to get him killed.

Trusting whatever it was that kept him fighting where he was certain he should not be, he moved forward bringing the sword up to bite once more into the zombie’s rotted core. The thing, while terrifying, wasn’t really that sharp and it stepped forward into his blade, before once more "hopping" back after being struck by the blade.

"Help Me!" an obviously panicked man’s voice came blaring out of the darkness at the top of the hill.

Looking up at the sound of another voice, he was distracted long enough for the zombie to sneak a friendly claw into his shoulder, making it difficult for him to share the thing’s camaraderie by inviting it to play with his blade. In fact, with the undead humanoid creature now standing far closer than his comfort level allowed, it was difficult to do too much more than holler at it in what was not a very friendly manner as it sunk another skeletal finger into his other arm.

The source of the screaming that had brought him here to the top of the hill was a very well dressed man who was currently sitting up in a tree holding a largish branch as if it were a club. Thankfully the gentleman must have realized that helping the guy with the real weapon was probably his best chance for survival, and he jumped down from the tree rushing the zombie currently holding him in what otherwise may have turned into a final hug.

As the well-dressed gentleman clubbed the thing what’s clothing was no longer discernible in the skull, its reaction was as sudden as it was terrifying. As the branch connected, the zombie’s arm snapped backwards from their grip on his arms, tearing their way out, and latched onto the new attacker, causing him to drop the makeshift weapon. Its head also pivoted completely around so that the horror could fix its new playmate with a terrible grimace.

Screaming both at the scene he’d just witnessed as well as the pain he was now enduring, the "new playmate" was in no condition to defend himself from the sudden attack, which just left a now wounded and questionably capable rescuer to do something about all this. With his arms freshly gouged by the creature he was supposed to be doing something about, his only real ideas all involved running as fast as his thus far undamaged legs would allow him.

Thankfully he’d managed to keep a tenuous grip on his sword, which still worked as all blamed things in this place worked, by his intent. As at least a portion of his intentions currently involved forcibly removing the zombie from the well-dressed gentleman, the weapon didn’t resist his meager attempt at swinging it, and in fact, cut cleanly into the thing’s torso. Reacting as it had the last two times, the zombie hopped away from his blade, leaving its new playmate to collapse.

Realizing that there was no time for this, he grabbed the falling fellow with a hand not currently holding the sword and pulled the gentleman to his feet, ready to drag him towards the relative security of the structure he’d built if need be. Thankfully, there was enough of the gentleman’s sense left to follow along, and within two rapid heartbeats the duo were scrambling off through the trees less than a hands width in front of the now pursuing zombie.

"Where are we going?" the gentleman shouted, half crazed and with pain in his voice.

"I’ve got a… safer… we’ll be…" he tried to answer, but really didn’t feel like any of the things he was trying to say were particularly true, so instead he replied, "Just follow me!"

Apparently deciding that he was better company than the zombie had been, the gentleman didn’t argue. They managed to make it about halfway back, and he was almost feeling confident that they’d arrive in relatively good shape, until he was reminded that not all the horrors of this place went bump in the night. Some of them could fly silently, choosing very inconvenient times to suddenly swim into view and forcibly acquaint themselves with new guests.

"Gruuuuaaaaagggghhhh!" the gentleman replied to demon eye’s greeting as he went crashing back towards the zombie, who unfortunately, hadn’t given up the pursuit.

Taking no time to let things get worse, and wondering again at how wise all this really was, he jumped towards the zombie sword first to keep it from pouncing on the well-dressed man. Reluctantly, the shuffling dead hopped backwards from the sword’s bite, but not before tearing the progressively less nice clothing the gentleman was wearing. Pulling him to his feet, they set off once more, still within spitting distance of the zombie and this time keeping an eye to the air.

"Guaaahhhh…." the recently rescued individual complained as they stumbled into view of the structure.

"Almost there," he responded, before the sparkly bit of light resting behind the structure caught his eye once more. Nearing the structure, another reckless urge came over him.

As they reached the front door, he pulled it open and pushed his charge through it before slamming it back and continuing around the side of the building.

*KThunk*

The demon eye checked the door’s solidity right behind him, just managing to miss getting in while it was open. As he rounded the corner of the building the brilliance of the… what did Guile call it… fallen star was blinding in its absolute radiance, and for a moment too long he just stood transfixed by the multicolored array playing out around it.

The claws sunk into his shoulder reminded him why this was not such a wise decision, and he fell forward in an attempt at breaking the zombie’s grip. Thankfully grappling was not one of the things talents. Unfortunately neither was shock one of its weaknesses, so while he did manage to fall out of its grip, the thing just stumbled forward giving him no time to recover from his ill planned evasion before it was on top of him once more.

This time he was almost ready for it, and his sword greeted the thing as it came crashing into him before hopping back from the blade, but not before it snuck a claw through the front of the rags he was no longer qualified as clothing, as covered in dirt, blood, and dried goop as they were. Scrambling up, blade before him to fend the zombie off, he managed to make his feet. Swinging the sword at the undead creature, he knocked it back once more and quickly turned to run for the fallen star, not sure even as he did that this was the wisest of decisions. Who knew what would happen when he tried to pick it up. Would it burn him?

Following the same drive that had served him so far, he didn’t give himself too much time to think on it and just went for the star. Nearing it, he didn’t even stop to admire it up close, as beautiful as the thing was, and just grabbed it on the way past. As fluid and quick were his motions that he wasn’t even really sure his hand had touched the thing before it was deposited into his bags. Continuing his circuit around the house, he almost ran headlong into the zombie that was apparently a little more strategic than he’d given it credit for.

Plunging his sword directly into the creature’s midsection, he didn’t even stop moving to see what effect his attack would have. As it hopped back, he only struck it again, and not letting up, again. Letting out some of the fear, the anger, and truth be told, some of the sick excitement that he was feeling was an almost giddy sensation. He was absolutely terrified this entire time, but the zombie was less than threatening in response to his rapid assault.

"Graaaaahhhhhh!!!!" he screamed as he leveled one blow after another, not letting up, with the thing hopping back from each strike. Several blows later as the impulse was beginning to wane, whatever it was that kept the walking dead upright decided that this creature was no longer worth its time and the zombie quite literally just fell apart. One moment it was hopping backwards from his blade, and with his next slice across its chest, the shambling mess of a humanoid creature quite literally fell to pieces.

Having not expected the sudden change, he actually jumped when it happened and just stood there staring down at the thing’s remains. Curiously, a metal bracelet attached to a small piece of chain caught his eyes as it wasn’t attached to the creature in any manner. Bending down to pick it up, he felt the tendrils that hung from the rear of a demon eye brush the back of his neck, as it just missed striking him and stifling a scream of abject horror at the sensation, he was snapped back to the danger of the situation.

Wasting no time returning to the front of the structure, he plowed through the door without regard to anyone possibly standing on the other side and slammed it shut behind him.

"It looks like you made it back in one piece," Guile commented.

Collapsing in a shuddering puddle of weary muscles and aching wounds as the fear he’d been holding at bay this entire time came washing through him, he finally allowed himself the opportunity to think about what he’d just done, and it was enough to pull him down through the floor into the darkness of sleep that he’d found hiding beneath the earth several times before. As the light of the small room dimmed, he could hear a low chuckle that did nothing to console the fear following him into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes:** So this section has been rewritten three times. Initially his combat with the blue slime was quick, clean, and very Deja Vu. Going back to look, it appeared that the words had changed, but the combat flow was almost exactly the same as his first combat with a slime. Figuring that not only was that sloppy (Though impressive on a "Rewriting something from the past" kind of level... ;P) it was also boring, I rewrote it the first time.
> 
> Reading over that rewrite, I was ashamed of myself, as all I'd done was explain everything slightly differently... nothing "Mechanically" had changed. So in the second rewrite, I "Added" to it, figuring that would make it different enough. The problem was, I had only "Hurt him more", the actual fight itself brought nothing new to the table. 
> 
> Thinking about it, I realized that my issue was in the approach I took towards writing the scene. I was visualizing the combat from the game, and trying to make subtle adjustments to that. I was keeping the slimes more or less moving the same, and the MC fighting more or less the same. So this time I took the element I had and tried writing outside of the confines of the base game mechanics. That's where the slime's "Dodge" came from, which allowed the fight to actually differentiate itself.


	12. Conversation

"So where are we?" he could hear a small voice asking from somewhere far away. It was a voice he _almost_ recognized, but until he could get a look at the guy…

"Sitting in a small structure built by _him_ ," a voice he definitely recognized spoke up in response.

Snapping his eyes open, he looked up at the man talking nearby. Guile was pointing at him as he lie there on the floor, right inside the doorway where the injuries he'd sustained last night were once again only a memory. The appetite that woke with him was certainly more important than either of those things however, so pulling a mushroom out of his bag he washed that gnawing ache from his system.

Pulling himself up, he was once again in awe at how good he could feel waking up from a nap on the floor. His muscles ached in a way that he was sure had everything to do with the lack of give a wooden floor had, but other than that he was rather well recovered from the previous night’s assault. Looking down at what used to be his clothing, he wished they reflected his internal recovery.

"So who are you then?" the small voice eked out from a rather pathetic form lying crumpled in the back corner of the room.

Walking over to the ragged, but still rather well dressed gentleman lying in a heap in the corner, he answered, "I’m the guy that saved you from the zombies last night."

It was alarming how bad the bundle of man on the floor looked. Wounds still very visible through the tears in his clothing, the increasingly less nicely dressed gentleman looked… well, he looked like someone who had just been assaulted by zombies the night before. Knowing what he did about this place though, that didn’t make any sense.

"How are you feeling?" he tried to ask, but the gentleman’s head had fallen to the side, and he gave no response. Reaching down to touch his chest, he could still feel a heartbeat, but the gentleman didn’t so much as twitch at his touch.

"He’s out again," Guile informed him unhelpfully.

"I think I could’ve figured that one out on my own," he snapped back, "What’s wrong with him?" he asked slightly sharper than probably necessary.

"That is of no importance," Guile didn’t answer.

"What do you mean it’s not important!?" he shouted, "I’ve been mauled almost every night that I’ve been here so far and I wake up without a scratch. This guy gets attacked by one zombie, and he looks like he’s barely got enough life left to sleep through the day!" he continued.

"That is of no importance," Guile repeated himself.

"Listen, I don’t care what you think is, or isn’t important. I just want to know what’s going on with this guy!" he snapped back.

"Why?" Guile asked in a smug, almost condescending tone, "What can you do about it? What does it matter what’s _going on_ with this guy?" he added.

"I don’t know what I can do about it!" he started…

"Nothing," his Guide interrupted.

"So there’s nothing I can do to help him recover from his wounds?" he asked, his voice doing a poor job of containing the anger and frustration he felt.

His lips curling into a light smirk, Guile answered, "I didn’t say that."

"Gttthhh… Urrgggg… Hhhhhh..." he answered inarticulately, his fists clenched at his sides and his face contorting with the strain of keeping his cool.

Taking a deep, slow, breath, he tried to speak again, carefully articulating every syllable in a failed effort to keep his voice from revealing his frustration any further, "O…k… then what can I do to help him recover from his wounds?"

"Focusing on that would be a waste of your time," Guile responded, "but as you seem rather fond of wasting time, you can accomplish both this and your greater goal simultaneously. Do you recall that pot you encountered on your first night?"

Caught off guard by Guile’s underhanded helpfulness, he replied, "Yeah… what about it?"

"The pot you found only held torches. Those pots are not too hard to find, and generally you’ll run across one containing a Lesser Healing Potion before too long. So while you’re out looking for the materials you need, you can keep an eye out for that as well," was the full answer.

As was the case any time Guile seemed more than willing to share information without having it drug out of him, he wondered at the real motive behind the answer. The reasons for teaching him how to build things was apparent by his _Guide’s_ reluctance to leave his new structure. What then did actually helping him heal the well-dressed gentleman’s wounds provide when _It didn’t matter_?

"You’re not going to do anything to him while I’m out gathering materials are you?" he asked, suddenly concerned.

"That is not my role," was the response.

"That is not an answer," was his reply.

"It will suffice," was all he got in return.

Glaring at Guile, who as usual was completely unfazed, he decided that were it his _Guide_ 's intention to do something, there really wasn’t all that much that he could do anyway. At the least, he'd provided him a method of trying to heal the gentleman. He decided to try his luck with another question before he left however.

"What exactly does a _Healing Potion_ look like? How will I know if I've found one and not some other kind of potion, and are there even other kinds of potions?" he rattled out.

"There are indeed a variety of potions, but as long as you're searching near the surface, you are very unlikely to run across any others. You will know when you've found it however, as the potion is a red colored liquid in a glass flask." he answered.

Still not certain why Guile was being so helpful, but not wanting to lose this opportunity, he tried another question, "So where should I start looking for the potion?"

"You should not be looking for the potion," Guile answered him, "You should be looking for iron, cobwebs, and stone. The potion will likely turn up in a pot along the way."

Stopping before he snapped that he was less interested in these things than the potion, he instead appended to his question, "Fine... where should I look for these things?"

"The terrain behind the structure should be littered with caverns, which is the ideal place to start your search. I'd be wary about going too deep, as there are things even more dangerous than the walking dead of the night." Guile answered him.

"Like what?" he tried.

"That may be the final question you answer for yourself if you do not follow my warning," was the answer, establishing what he was shocked had taken so long, Guile was done being helpful.

"Fine, I'll keep from traveling too deep," he answered, "And don't do anything to him while I'm gone," he added uselessly before walking out the door.

"Hmph," Guile replied in what sounded like an amused manner.

Heading outside, he remembered the _star_ he'd found the previous night, and he pulled it from his pouch. As the star began materializing in his hand, a bright flash of multicolored light, and a rush of... something, some kind of energy, exploded from his hand, pulsing through him and leaving it empty. Standing there, not quite sure what just happened, he tried to look for the star, which was no longer in his pouch.

"A fallen star does not respond well to sunlight in its unrefined state," Guile's voice came to him from the opening beside the door.

"So what happened then?" he asked.

"It returned to its natural state."

"Which is?"

"The fallen stars are a condensed magic that is foreign to this world. They have fallen to the surface in some number every night since time immemorial, and their power has been used by both those native, and those like yourself to great effect. The stars natural state is not unlike the natural magic running through this world, even though its energy is quite different, and oftentimes opposed. Over time, the magic from the fallen stars has worked its way into the very fabric of this world's magic, and though it is not a natural part, it is certainly a measurable quantity."

"So then," he tried again, "what just happened there?"

"As I've just said, the star returned to its natural state at the sun's touch, and has woven itself into the magic of this world. It's beyond your reach at this point," Guile responded, sighing overdramatically, "If you wish to keep a fallen star from dissipating, you should keep it out of the sunlight," he added rather curtly.

Angry at himself for losing the star, even though he wasn't sure what he could have done with it, he decided to continue on his way, but not before asking, "Is there anything else that I'll be finding that I need to be wary of exploding unexpectedly?"

"If you come across grenades, they are prone to exploding, though you generally have to pull their pins beforehand. Normally I'd not be concerned with needing to warn someone about them, but with you..."

"Great... I'll watch out for those," he muttered in response, before walking around the back of the building and heading away from the structure in a new direction.

Continuing to mutter under his breath, he walked until the ground began to slowly coming apart... which was about as coherently as he could describe what he'd walked into. As he moved further from the structure, the trees thinned, the ground rose, and then the earth had apparently come apart... in midair... without falling.

After coming to the edge of the chunk of land still connected to the hill he'd just climbed, he just stood there for a moment looking out at the broken land masses in front of him. He had a hard time deciding whether or not it was worth it to keep heading in that direction. Nothing in him welcomed the thought of climbing either onto, or under a chunk of earth that just stood suspended in air. Even being near enough to look at them was causing a tightness in his gut that he couldn't set loose. Making it worse... a tree was growing out of a chunk of land suspended not too far from him.

Looking straight down from his vantage, he could see the ground an almost reachable distance below him. The fall wasn't what worried him. Just further than he could jump out, the first of the floating land masses sat suspended in the air with a tree just boldly jutting up from it. It wasn't a subtle effect either. He could see far enough below it that there was no chance of it being a trick of perspective... as much as he wanted it to be. He couldn't even say why, after the walking dead, flying demon eyes, and sentient blobs, this bothered him so much. There was just an unshakable feeling of _wrong_ to it that wouldn't come loose.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to try walking around the hill to come at this mess from further down. Perhaps there was a way down that didn't involve floating land masses. Looking to the right, he didn't see much to encourage this line of thinking, nothing to the left either... at least not anywhere within sight. At that, an idea came to mind.

Pulling a dirt clump from his pouch, he leaned over the edge and attempted to place the dirt into the wall as far down as he could reach. Something strange occurred as he did so, the dirt seemed to leap from his hand fastening itself to the earth a little beyond his reach. Lying there on the edge of a splintered shard of earth, this could have surprised him more. Pulling his metal sword out, he tried to shake the dirt loose to no effect. It was definitely staying put. He wondered at how far he could drop a piece of dirt into place.

Focusing on the bottom of the visible earth ledge, he pulled another piece of dirt from his pouch, and it too lept from his hand and fastened itself to the wall, this time further down. Trying a third time, he wasn't able to get it to fasten itself any lower. The dirt stayed in his overhanging hand until he focused on a point lining up with his last attempt. Crawling a little further out over the ledge, he was able to get dirt to fasten to the end of the two chunks he'd just set, creating a ledge that was wide enough for him to lower himself down on... if he trusted it. Looking up, he saw that the sun had already crossed the first quarter of the sky, and that decided him. He had an objective to complete, regardless of Guile's indifference, and perhaps finding a potion to heal the gentleman's wounds would require him to put himself out of his comfort zone... wherever that was anymore.

Turning around, he lowered himself to the artificial platform, and as he released his weight from the edge, every muscle in his body seemed to tighten, but the new ledge held. Taking a slow shuddering breath as he slowly loosened up, he allowed himself to carefully turn around on his little platform, that by all means should not have sustained his weight. Leaning back against the dirt, the relief oozing out of his muscles was a delicious sensation that he let himself enjoy for a few moments. Chuckling at himself for what now felt like an overreaction, he pulled his pick-axe out and removed his first chunk of dirt from the wall beside him. There was no reason for it, but seeing how easily the dirt came loose with the pick-axe sent another tight shiver down his spine that thankfully didn't linger. Pulling a few more chunks of dirt from his pouches, he widened the platform to a comfortable working level, before he looked towards climbing down.

The distance from his current level to the greater ground below wasn't enough that he needed to build another ledge, but he still had to lower himself carefully over the edge. Moving from platform to the "Ground" wasn't as comfortable as he'd have liked it to be. Especially once he was on the ground, and he could actually see the underside of both the platform he'd just been on, and the overhang he had come down from. There was far too much dirt in the air, and nowhere near enough support for it all. Firmly closing his eyes, he realized that fretting over this wasn't going to get him any further, and besides, at least this strangeness wasn't trying to kill him... yet.

Opening his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that there were deeper crevices all around him leading down. Some wider than others, and yet all of them had that same ragged look, as if the earth had just begun falling apart before stopping, mid fall to reconsider. The second thing he saw was the pot sitting beneath the overhang none too far away. A flit of excitement was all he allowed himself before he walked over to check its contents. It was at this point that he realized how very poorly designed these pots were. No matter how he tried, he couldn't quite make out the contents of the pot, nor could he pull whatever it was in them out through the little opening. Had Guile not informed him that these pots were actually formed by the land, he'd have frustrated himself trying to figure out how they got whatever it was into the pot in the first place.

Deciding that he'd have to follow the lead of his first pot encounter, he lifted the clay container, and tossed it a little ways away from him. It thumped to the ground, unfazed by his toss. Not to be deterred, he pulled out his metal sword and soundly struck the pot. This seemed to do the trick, and the vessel yielded its contents. Five arrows, that were certainly longer than the pot had been wide. For a brief moment he considered that, before placing them inside his pouches, which were most certainly not as wide as the arrows were long.

***Plop***

The sound of a slime landing very near to right behind him startled him quite a bit more than he would have liked. The sound was what you would expect a gelatinous object falling from a respectable height would sound like, and it occurred within swinging distance of his sword, which was ready in his hand at the thought.

As his blade connected with the quivering blob, he wondered for a moment about how many more were nearby, just waiting for him to lose his limited focus. Following through with a series of slices, he made short work of the slime and took a careful look up and around, but didn't see any others.

"Heh," he laughed to himself. He was his own worst antagonist. It was turning out that surviving here wasn't as dangerous as he'd let himself get worked up about. Not that it was "Safe", just that by being careful, he wasn't really in too much real danger... at least in the daylight.

Putting his sword back into his pouches, he pulled the last torch out instead. Crouching down beside one of the fissures out a little ways from the hill, he tried using the torch to look into the crack. It didn't seem to go too far into the earth, but there was something down in the small broken valley that caught the light of the torch in a strange fashion. Almost a dull reflection from the stone below, as if it were wet... or...

He wanted to try something. Lying at the edge of the small cliff, he tried to get the torch to fasten itself to the wall just below his reach... and it worked. One moment he was holding the light, and the next it was secured to the wall, lighting up the little cavern. An uncomfortable chill skittered down from the base of his neck. The dirt was already pushing his recently schizophrenic sense of comfort, but if he could fasten even the torch without actually holding onto it... This wasn't the time to really think about this. He had an objective to complete, and freaking himself out wasn't going to make it any easier. But the added unease wasn't as easy to shake and he began to doubt how much further he should go.

Forcibly tucking those thoughts away for the moment, he tried to remember how to make torches. Pulling a piece of wood out in one hand, and a gel out in the other, he brought them together with the gel at one end of the wood. As the gel fastened itself to the wood, the wood pulled apart into three smaller torches, which he then, satisfied that he could make more if he needed, placed into his pouches. Getting up, he walked around the fissure until he found an area that was ragged enough for him to climb down. At the bottom of the wall, he pulled another torch out to fully hold back the growing shade that had followed him down and walked over to where he'd seen the glistening stone.

The Fissure he'd crawled into was relatively narrow. No more than three could have comfortably walked shoulder to shoulder down its length, and as he walked over to the where the light had reflected, he found the source. Set into the dirt wall was a mass of darker metal. Running his hand across the metal, he could almost feel a kind of energy resonate from within and he instinctively pulled his hand back as if he'd been burned. Along with the small sensation, he also _knew_ that the metal went back at least another chunk. He wasn't certain, but he figured this was probably the iron that he was looking for.

Pulling his pickaxe out, he struck at the edge of the metal. At his blow, a section of the metal flexed, much like the dirt had before, and his pickaxe rebounded heartily. Continuing to strike at the section of raw material, it wasn't too many blows before *pop* a chunk of the material separated from the wall and condensed into a smaller rounded and rather solid chunk of metal. Picking it up, he was actually surprised by its seeming density. He'd almost expected the metal, like the dirt before, to have been loosely held together in a malleable mass. This clump felt pretty solid, and surprisingly weighty. Placing it into his pouches, he was glad for the first time that they seemed to mitigate the weight of everything he was carrying. It began to occur to him how much he'd begun accumulating thus far.

Shaking those thoughts off before he started wandering too far down that line, he instead turned his attention back to the metal in the wall, and he began collecting the rest of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes:** Unfortunately, as I'm trying to write this story in such a way that you could "Understand" it having never played the game, there are some "Learning Moments" like this that to a Terraria Pro are kind of silly. Really though, the idea that you can "Build" a distance from yourself isn't as "Intuitive" in "Real Space". I could "Gloss them over", but then future scenes where he makes use of such a talent would be confusing. Really though, he's getting there... and he hasn't had a freak out in a while now, so I'd say progress... right? ;P
> 
> Also, there actually is an "In Story" lore reason why floating land works, and why it's so unsettling to him, but we'll see when/if it gets revealed. >,>


	13. A Miner at Large

Removing the last bit of metal in the wall brought his total up to a measly four chunks of material. He would have liked more, but that's all he could find. Striking the stone it too resonated, and he decided to collect a few chunks of that as well, in the off chance that he might find more iron behind it. After the first strike however, he _knew_ that there was nothing but more stone, and then a bit of dirt however, so he stopped after his first chunk came loose. He still wasn't at ease with the way he _knew_ things like that... but he was keeping himself focused, and didn't allow his mind to worry over it.

Stepping back from the wall, he looked around more carefully at the small ravine. Down at the other end, right behind where he'd climbed down, there was a small opening leading further down, and out of the low light that reached his current location. His heartbeat jumped at just the thought of climbing through that opening, and he hadn't even taken his first step towards it.

He knew that down that way he'd need to use a torch, and while having one to help light up the shadows didn't really bother him, the idea of relying on them completely to see.... that was something else. Also, Guile's warnings about the things that lived, or didn't, beneath the surface was coming back to him. Perhaps that was where the zombies took refuge from the sun. What if down that ravine was a large pack of the undead, just patiently waiting for a snack?

He took the torch from the wall and walked tentatively towards the opening, and the tension flowing through him responded in turn. If this kept up, he physically wouldn't be able to walk through it, regardless of his desires. Taking another step he held the torch up, even though it now seemed to weigh thrice what it had moments before, and tried to peer into the darkness as far as his eyes could see. As he neared the crack in the wall, his ears strained to hear that low dangerous moaning from below. Or possibly a shuffling that would let him know to turn around.

Hearing nothing, he still wasn't convinced that this was the best of ideas, but he knew that if he wanted to find a potion, this was his best bet. So far the jars he'd found had been below ground, just as Guile had said they'd be, and this certainly led below ground... Guile had, however, also warned against going too deep, without of course providing any kind of useful context to let him know "How Deep was Too Deep"...

Standing right at the _Entrance_ at the end of the ravine, he steeled himself to step through the threshold. This close, the torch lit a small distance in front of him, enough to know that while it was walkable, it was very steep. Still hearing nothing over the resounding drum of his heart, he took a careful step in. Not being jumped by hoards of the undead was a nice response to that first step, so he carefully took another. Still sound of body, though progressively less of mind, he continued into the darkness with the torch held high.

After a few terrifying steps, he began to loosen up. Not tremendously, as he was still walking into the darkness alone, but he wasn't _as_ terrified. Looking behind him, he was alarmed at how ineffectual the limited light from the entrance was at dispelling the darkness. He felt as if none too many steps more would find him unable to see the light of outside at all, and in none too many steps more he realized that he was almost right. Setting a torch in the wall, he decided that if he couldn't see the light of outside, at the least he could see this one, as kind of an acknowledgement that he was going in the right direction when he returned up the straight, un-forked thus far, tunnel.

The passage itself wasn't visually interesting. There were small bits of stone occasionally peeking through the dirt, and a few more confused vines clawing their way through the ceiling. Reaching out to touch one of them, he was surprised by how fragile they were. A light tug to test its hold, and the whole thing came off in his hands and rapidly disintegrated. It wasn't even hardy enough for him to hold. Deciding to ignore them, he considered that leaving a torch left him with only four, though it wasn't as if the torches were particularly hard to put together. And while he was still not entirely too confident in his combat prowess, he was pretty certain that he could gather some more gel when he returned to the surface. With that in mind, he began pulling wood and gel out in equal amounts until he'd created an additional 12 torches.

Putting away all but one, he continued warily into the darkness until he once more had trouble seeing the light behind him, which prompted him to set a second torch in the wall. He wasn't sure how long he'd been underground, but it felt like an eternity as he slowly made his way downwards. On his third torch, he came to a place where the tunnel curved sharply down and to the right. Stopping before he rounded the bend, he held his breath and listened anew. The sound of the torches was the only thing outside of him disturbing the silence of the cavern. Emboldened, he rounded the bend, which happened to come all the way around, a full 180 degrees. Setting a torch in the outer wall halfway around, he place it where the light it cast could hopefully be seen from either side.

It wasn't too far from the bend before the cavern opened up. A drop, that wasn't too hi for him to let himself down from, led to a rounded cavern with a dull glow in the floor at the center of the room. This was a considerably larger stash of the metal than he'd found before. Looking over the edge, he noticed that the cavern doubled back beneath the ledge where another tunnel went further down. Right beneath the drop was also two of those pots, this was obviously his lucky day. Setting a torch in the ledge, so that it not only cast a little light above and below the ledge, but it also cast light into the open cavern, he cautiously climbed down.

Taking his handy pot opener to the two pots, he discovered something interesting. When the first pot burst open, out spilled a silver colored coin, and five smaller bronze coins. This was interesting for two reasons. One, he'd not been able to see them before the pot burst, though at their size that shouldn't have been a problem. Second, he had a small inkling that this wasn't his first time seeing coins... though strangely, he'd not _really_ noticed them before. Reaching into his pouch, he tried to look for coins, but didn't see any, which didn't help with his feeling. Also missing was the arrows he'd just found.

While he was doing this the coins flew towards him and vanished, he assumed, into his pouches. Reaching around for them, he was disconcerted when he didn't find them either. Closing his eyes, he tried to envision the contents of his pouches. Panels, Wood, Dirt, Stone, His Tools, Torches, Mushrooms, Giant Acorns, Gel, the metal he'd mined, and... _what is this?_

Pulling a small metal ring out of his pouch, he remembered picking it up after defeating the zombie. He'd been a little distracted at the time, and hadn't had time to think about it since. Looking it over, he realized that there wasn't all that much too it. A worn metal ring with a primitive pivot that was just big enough to fit around his wrist. It also had a bit of chain hanging off of it. Perhaps it had once bound the zombie somewhere, but the thing had broken free? For no real reason, he tried affixing it to his own wrist.

The following sensation was strange, and not easy to describe. One moment the ring had weight and substance, but as soon as he closed it on his wrist, the weight went away. It wasn't that he couldn't feel the ring around his wrist. There was definitely a sensation of wearing it, but it was as if it were suddenly... "Weightless"? Not airy, or cloth like, it definitely still felt like a metal ring around his wrist, but it didn't feel as... "Hard"? He wasn't quite sure. All he knew was that it wasn't uncomfortable to wear it, which was not what he'd expected. Though... perhaps that had something to do with why the zombie had been wearing it.

At that thought he quickly opened the ring to make sure he could take it off. When it provided no resistance, he decided that it would be better to leave it in his pouch until he had opportunity to ask Guile about it. At this, his mind went back to the matter of the coins. Reaching around in the pouches didn't turn them up. Actually looking down at the pouches, he noticed one off towards the back that looked different, and that he'd not used when adding or removing things from his pouch previously.

Reaching into that one he was greeted with his answer. In that pouch, he _found_ in the still slightly unsettling way, now that it was another pouch on his person carrying things he hadn't even known he'd been carrying, all the coins his pouches had apparently collected. 2 Silver Coins, and 52 Bronze ones. Also in that side pouch was the four arrows he'd picked up just before. While he didn't understand why these things had taken residence in this secondary pouch, there wasn't anything he could do about it so he just decided to take what little joy he could from having figured this out. Finished with that, he turned his gaze to the second pot in the dark cavern.

"Opening" that pot was a disappointment. A few additional torches came out and he wondered if he was going to actually find one of these potions after all. Perhaps there really weren't any "Healing Potions" and this was Guile's way of getting him out of the structure long enough for him to do unspeakable things to the well dressed gentleman. Not that by being there he could do anything about it... but it still seemed wrong to leave so much as a rabbit in Guile's "Care".

Looking around the small cavern to ensure that he hadn't by chance just missed a pot lying off to the side, he moved on to collecting the metal on the floor at the back of the room. With each strike came that _sense_ of what was beneath, and a little beyond, letting him know that while the was quite a bit more here than he'd found before, there certainly wasn't an enormous cache of the stuff hiding beneath, much to his dismay. It was strange to be all but effortlessly collecting what was not arguably an impossible sum of metal for an individual to carry while at the same time wishing there were more of it. But he was slowly getting used to strangeness... slowly.

By the time he'd gathered all the metal from the ground, he was in a hole just as deep as he was tall, and wide enough to lie in if he'd wanted to. As thoughts of why he'd need a hole wide enough to lie in began to convalesce, he was almost glad to be distracted by the sound of a slime making its way towards him.

*Shlorp, Plop, fTchsh*

Listening, it was impossible to tell whether it was coming from above, or below, so pulling his sword out he put his back to the wall and watched both openings. It didn't take the thing too long to show its mass from above, and it took him even less time to dispatch of the wad of green sentient goop once it finally made its way to where he was. He paid attention this time and noticed that the thing left behind not only gel, but a few coins that he now knew it had picked up from a traveler that no longer needed them.

Putting his sword and the remains of his foe away after listening for any other slimes, he was undecided about his next move. There was a passage leading down, and as the path hadn't so much as forked from the time he started, it wasn't as if he would be lost were he to continue down. That being the case though, he had no idea how long he'd been down here, and there was a small trek back, once he'd managed to climb his way up. Also, was this too far?

It was the fact that he'd not found a potion that decided him. "That" was the real reason he was out here, regardless of, and in fact maybe because of, what Guile wanted to the contrary. He'd follow this until he found another pot or two. If he still hadn't run across a potion by that point, he would make his way back, quickly. Pulling a torch out he headed downwards, beneath the path that had brought him here, hoping that he wasn't pushing it "Too Far"...

One torch down the passage, placed as the ones before just as the light from the previous torch was almost not visible, he noticed a light coming from in front of him. Initially he wasn't sure, perhaps the darkness had started playing tricks on him, but after a few more steps he was certain. Slowing his already careful pace, he put the torch away for a moment to see if he could see it any better, and the light also disappeared. Staying silent, he listened for whatever it was to make some noise, and the only sounds he heard were a slow drip of water coming from ahead, and the sound of his heart threatening to hammer its way out of his chest.

Pulling his torch back out, he noticed that the light came back, and immediately putting it back up caused the light to disappear. Shouting out, which much to his dismay ended up more a squeak, he said, "Is somebody there?" The rapid assault of his heart was still the only response. Pulling the torch back out, he looked again at his surroundings, and as much ahead as he could. Actually paying attention this time, he realized that the walls had gotten significantly more damp, and that ahead it seemed to be more wet than behind. Pulling his sword out, he realized he couldn't see, and trying to hold torch in one hand, sword in the other wasn't working either.

On a hunch, he decided to try something different. Holding the torch, he envisioned swapping it for his sword in a single move, and it worked exactly as he'd hoped. While it was suddenly dark, at the least he knew he could have his sword in hand at a moment's notice. And in the event that a slime suddenly popped up, or possibly something worse, that was some measure of comfort. Though what he would do with the _something worse_ he wasn't sure. Carefully making his way forward, he almost had to force himself to continue on, and only succeeded by not really considering how exposed and potentially in danger he actually was... too much.

As the light ahead of him came closer, it didn't take him too long to identify the source. Upon realizing what it was, he felt both foolish, and relieved. The dim light he'd been seeing "Coming from ahead", was actually his own torch reflecting off a smooth stream of water running down the wall into a pool of moderate depth that filled the passageway. Had he not been as on edge, he'd like to think he'd have realized that sooner, and saved himself some internal abuse. Now that he was approaching the edge of the pool however, he had to decide on his next move.

The water stretched the entire length of the passageway, and the water along the walls was as deep as the center, or at least near enough that it didn't matter. Straining to see the other side, he could tell that it wasn't too far across, and the water didn't look like it would be over his head... but he hadn't really planned on swimming, and the idea of walking through these dark cave sopping wet was far less than appealing. Just as he decided against wading into the water, a shape on the other side caught his eye.

Barely visible in the flickering torchlight, he saw what was unmistakably... most likely... hopefully... another clay pot. And of course, now that he'd seen it, he couldn't just turn around and leave, not with the possibility that _this_ one might contain the potion he'd been looking for. Frustrated, and still not interested in wading through the water, he decided to try and verify the shape. Standing against the wall, and reaching out over the water, he _placed_ a torch on the wall as far as he could reach out. After a few failed attempts, where the torch did not leave his hand as he imagined it fastening to the wall, finally the torch affixed itself more than halfway across the water on the wall, and verified his assumption.

"Damn it!" he shouted, to nobody in particular, stiffening briefly as his voice echoed back at him, loud in the otherwise silent darkness. Standing there, breathing slowly, and trying to slow his jumpy heart, the dripping, lightly running water grew louder to his ears, which thankfully had a slight calming effect on his nerves.

Reaching into his pouches, he went through the stuff he was carrying to try and come up with a better way to get across the water than just diving in. Finding the dirt he'd dug up while building the structure, he decided to try something.

Setting a clump of the dirt into the ground at the edge of the water, he watched as it it fastened itself to the existing dirt, as if it had always belonged. Placing another clump beside it, he was pleased to see it fasten to the first one and the surrounding dirt as well. Trying his hunch, he placed another two clumps of dirt on the water side of the small mound he'd made, and was pleased to note that they fastened to the first two, creating a more or less flat surface from the small mound. Stepping carefully onto it, he set two more out over the water, and the mostly flat surface continued holding itself up, even though it didn't really look like it should. Forging ahead without dwelling on it, he built a bridge of dirt over the water. Laughing at himself a little as a he reached the other side, the water really wasn't _that_ deep, he was glad at the least to be dry.

Opening the pot, he was greeted with an odd shaped vial of some kind of red fluid. Hardly daring to believe it he picked the vial up, and was puzzled for a moment when he realized that there was nothing holding the fluid in. Having just picked it up, lying on its side, he would have imagined the fluid should have leaked out. Reconciling the facts that not only was the world supposedly full of magic, the earth itself overflowing with magic, and everything he touched was apparently influenced by this magic, but that he himself was carrying several hundred pounds of raw materials around in a couple of pouches that he wore on his waist, he decided that the open topped vial not leaking was probably the least of his concerns and stopped thinking on it.

It was funny to him though. He'd only made it this far by forging ahead and not thinking too hard about everything around him, and the undefinable wrongness he felt... but when he looked at it _all_... it didn't upset him as much as he thought it would. And while he wasn't "comfortable" with the constant barrage of surprises, he felt that he could probably deal with it better now. And as he thought about this, what felt like a immense constriction that was knotted through and around him came loose. If just finding this healing potion made him feel this much better, he was positive that it would do what it needed for the injured gentleman back at the structure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes:** While I was writing, I laughed at the dramatic difference between "Game Logic", and what would seem "Common Sense". You don't think twice about diving into a pool of water while playing the game, and as such, his entire effort to avoid doing so seems overly done, but imagine coming across one, in a dark cool cave, quite a walk from "Home". I don't think I'd "Dive right In" either. ;P


	14. The Walking Dead

Giving the small corridor a glance over he didn't find anything else of interest, and the mostly stone ceiling rapidly lowered itself to the floor just beyond the water which ended his little trip more forcibly than finding the potion had. There was a small pool of water where the ceiling met the floor, but nothing of interest hid beneath the water's surface. Putting the potion carefully into his pouches, not that there was much outside of his intent to signify the care, he pulled a torch out and began heading back towards the structure.

As he reached the overhang that led to the upper path, he heard something that kicked his heart back up and froze every muscle in his body. A low guttural growl came from further up the passageway, towards the light, and towards the exit. He couldn't have been out here _that_ long. Sure it was later when he started out... but it couldn't be nightfall yet... could it? Dropping back below the overhang he stood, hardly breathing, and listened for the sound again. Silence. Every muscle tight with fear, he reached up and pulled himself to the upper pathway and sat listening again. Still silence.

Maybe he'd imagined it. The silence down in these caverns was deafening, and his imagination might have... a low hissing sound, like an exhalation from a throat that no longer knew what to do with the air surrounding it came sharply from below him, and down the passageway he'd just walked up. This was a bad idea. He shouldn't have come so far, he shouldn't have gone into the darkness like he had. Getting unsteadily to his feet, he pulled the sword out, and while it deepened the darkness between him and the next torch towards the surface, there was _just_ enough light to see by and he stumbled forward towards it.

A low moan came from somewhere in front of him, and though every muscle in his body resisted, he continued that way, ignoring the convulsive shiver wracking his spine at the sound. The hissing sound from behind was followed by a kind of excited growl, and turning to look at the source, he saw a shape leap nimbly from below to land in the passageway he was trying to exit. He was terrified by how agile the thing had moved, as the leap seemed to be the most natural of movements for it. The torch behind it cast the figure's features in shadow, though its vaguely humanoid form, and the noises it was making left little doubt as to what it was. Turning back and stumbling into a run, sword out front, he prayed that whatever it was in front of him hadn't made it down...

Little more than a shadowy form, and at the far end of the torch's light, he saw another shambling humanoid shape heading his direction, moaning in a way that fastened his fear firmly around him, and almost managed to stop him completely. What did in fact stop him was the second form landing behind it. _Th... three... three zombies, in a small corridor..._ He ran out of time to think, as the walking dead were upon him.

Swinging his sword in a desperate swipe at the creature that had come up behind him, he turned to just barely strike the first of the two zombies coming from the entrance that seemed now to be an unreasonable distance away. Turning once more, even as the second zombie was clawing its way past the one that had hopped back into it, he stabbed out at the zombie that had taken his first strike, and was not quick enough to turn and hit the second of the undead duo on his other side.

Teeth sank into one arm, as claws found their way into the other. He barely managed to hold onto his sword, the good that it did him, and fighting through the immense pain, he nicked the creature assailing him, which was enough at the least to cause it to hop away, leaving behind a burning sensation as a part of his arm familiarized itself with the outside air for the first time. Its partner was not impressed and took a slice to the face, keeping his attention for a moment too long, giving the zombie behind him opportunity to find healthy purchase in his upper back with both of its ghastly clawed hands.

Screaming out in a new kind of agony, he tried turning to face it, but the grip it had was secure, and he only managed to writhe long enough for the other two zombies to reengage him. Bringing his sword up to wiggle it in their general direction, he screamed as the creature attached to his back decided to taste his shoulder, ending that line of thought, and instead introducing his mind to a myriad of ways to appreciate pain.

Struggling to swing back over the shoulder housing a zombie's face, he managed to somehow convince it to release its grip, while fending off one of the zombie pairs in front of him with a blow, that was more of a flop of the sword. As it released him, he fell forward which did nothing to discourage the second undead creature, who wasted no time embracing him with its claws. In the grip of the zombie, who's excited guttural screeches froze his blood, he couldn't even get his sword high enough to discourage its new closeness.

His world was a swirling mass of fear and pain, each cascading over him, overlapping the other until he couldn't have distinguished one from the other. He wasn't sure if he was screaming at the second set of claws now raking his back, as the forward zombies partner decided to sample his legs, or the thought that _this_ would be that last sensation he would enjoy. Looking up, he managed to catch a glimpse of the last thing he would ever see... a giant eye, gazing at him, imploring him to look at it... to see...

A crack, that he could feel race over the surface of his skull, and a pop at the top of his spine, accompanied a floating sensation as if all his bodily pains had been released into the air. At the sound of the crack, everything went dim... not quite dark, but not _right_... though what could be _right_ about anything anymore, and the sound of the zombies excitedly tearing into his flesh faded off...

It was as if he was someone else, only hearing about this horrible experience happening to a guy he knew, when a bright flash of a pinkish purple blinding light brought his wandering mind back to what had just happened, and a low laughter that seemed to come from all around, a laughter that he could feel, more _real_ than even the pain of moments before, a laughter that not only reverberated through him, but also seemed to carry him forward, thrashing him through the now light blinded darkness that was more rich than all the color he had known before. His entire body resonated with the slow pulsing of the light, and the low malicious staccato of the now fear inducing laughter. He didn't know what was happening, hardly knew what had just happened, but he did know that this sound, and this light, would end him if he allowed it to.

Fighting to pull away, he resisted in every way he could imagine, and slowly, he could feel himself pulling away from it. _Truly? You would return? Back to from whence you've come?_ A searing pain wracked his body, a body he could no longer see, or feel, save for the shape given it by pain. _THIS Is what you wish to return to? THIS is your choice?_ It was as if every piece of him, inside and out, were being assailed by the voice, a new crest of agony punctuating every darkly whispered word, his mind flooded by sensations that extended beyond the simple definitions of torture, and lit up entire ranges of his mind that had never begun to consider the world outside. _So be it._

Wave after wave of agony, pain that following any reason would be numbing, rocked him away from the light, carried him from the laughter. And as what little bits of the world he could still remember began to dance along the perimeter of the darkness that was edging in around the fading purple light, he was never too far from the laughter, the hollow, dark, laughter. There was no joy in that sound, there was nothing at all, and soon, there was only darkness to fill the emptiness left in its wake.

Lying there in the dirt, he wasn't sure what he hated more; the pain slowly oozing from his limbs, or the barely contained amusement that Guile was wearing on his face. Taking an inventory, he realized that aside from his clothing, that hardly resembled clothing anymore, he had nothing. No pouches, no weapons, and no healing potion. It was funny how quickly his mind went to the healing potion now... though he wondered at why he was lying there in the dirt in the first place. His memories of the night before were a clouded mess, as if he were looking at his own mind through a fog of flashes scenes and... _The healing potion_!

Jumping to his feet, his head only a few seconds behind him, he rounded on Guile, "What did you do with it!?" his finger stabbing his point home in Guile's general direction. His head may have caught up, but it still wasn't firing quite right.

"I will admit," his _guide_ responded, "this was not the reaction I was expecting." he continued with a shrug, "What with my saving you from evisceration."

"I!" he shouted before stopping as the last almost coherent memory he had came racing back. Sitting solidly on the ground, he quickly ran his fingers over his body, noting that everything was still attached and where he'd left it. The last almost clear memory he had was of a trio of zombies doing their best to rip his meat from his bones. Still in shock at the violence of his last memories, he tried to recall more, and was only unsettled by a faint memory of a dark laughter, which he attributed to Guile. The muscles and such on his body didn't ache any more than he would have expected from sleeping outside in the dirt. It was much like his previous stints at night, only this time the damage he remembered taking was far worse...

*GrrrrDggBlp*

The sound of his stomach, and the sharp ache it added suddenly consumed his attention. He was unreasonably hungry, and without his pouches, he needed to find a mushroom nearby. Getting back up and turning from Guile, he hunted around until he managed to find one sitting atop a nearby overhang jutting out over what could have been little more than a rabbit's den. Closing his eyes he focused on nothing beyond enjoying the sensation of eating, as the mushroom washed the hunger away and loosened the tightness he'd felt as well. Standing there, eyes closed, he almost didn't want to return to the present...

"And..." Guile's voice as usual tore him back.

Clearing his throat as he tried making sense of his scattered recollections, he responded, "And What?"

"I was waiting for you to finish your earlier verbal assault. Barring that, I was curious as to how long you were planning on waiting before you gathered your belongings," was the answer.

Glaring, his temper began to rise, "Why should I have to gather my belongings in the first place?!" he shouted, turning back to look at Guile "If you were able to save me before those," an icy chill at the thought of the creatures ran down his spine, as flashes of them bearing down on him momentarily cooled his temper, replacing it with a sick sensation that he struggled to ignore, "things... actually killed me," he continued far more subdued, "why did you leave my pouches behind?"

"It is by my grace that you walk again," Guile's voice lowered, that hollowness and sense of danger coming once more, and this time something else, a kind of cold shiver that ran through him with each word, "Fleshling. You chose to resist the pull of the land, and now you are indebted to _me_.." he drew out the last word, and the violence laced smile seemed to carry an almost physical component, as if he could feel the threat beneath his skin.

Stepping back and running into the overhang, he tried to respond, his voice coming far weaker than he would have liked, "I what?"

"Come now," Guile answered, stepping closer, at least, he moved closer, though he didn't see him step... "Have you forgotten already?"

A flash of pain lit up the back of his skull, and closing his eyes, reaching up to cup his head as if somehow doing so would lessen the pain he _saw_ a pearly purple light behind his closed lids and a flash of something else...

"There you go," Guile's voice, the threat unveiled, coming from far too close, "I wouldn't want you to think I didn't care..." A stab of pain erupted from the back of his skull and clamped down vice-like, the invisible teeth sinking into his back and pulling his hands down and away from his face, holding him upright and facing Guile, who was standing within arm's reach, or at least what would be arms reach, were he capable of moving his arms.

Struggling against the invisible barbed bonds, he had flashes of something... something from after the attack, but it was vague. Like the memory of a dream... only that haunting laughter stood out, and something else... "Graaaahhhh!" the invisible barbs bit down into his bones, and with them the memory of pain came flooding back, but only for a moment, leaving him gasping for breath and still suspended.

"That's better," the malevolence in Guile's voice was coated with a kind of self satisfaction, oozing out and around him, its sounds caressing his skin with an icy brush... "You live, Because I will it," the final word punctuated with a bite of his invisible bonds, "You will die, When I will it," again a bite, and this time his arms we pulled hard behind him, further than he felt the should go, folding his back and stretching his chest to a painful degree, "You will serve your role, and Builder..." the voice trailed off as Guile stepped right up to him, the almost smile a dagger that cut across his face, "Remember that _You_ chose your role." at those words the bonds released him, and he fell in a puddle of arms and legs to the ground, his every muscle aching from being stretched beyond their want.

The sound of Guile collapsing in front of him gave him a sort of twisted pleasure, knowing that his _guide_ was currently recovering from whatever went on during his dark theatrics. He realized that he should have been afraid, terrified even, but he didn't even have the energy for that. Breathing was taking the majority of his concentration at the moment, and he was rather fond of air, and so he continued focusing on that.

"Hehehe..." a low, weary, chuckle, not the sound of someone who moments before had suspended him like a marionette, but he knew better than to warm up to him... especially now. Something had changed after the zombies attacked him, and while he was glad that there was an _after_ at all... he wasn't sure anymore what he should be doing. This was more than threatening words and worrisome behavior. This... he didn't know what _this_ was.

_IiIiiInnNnNnnNn.... OoOooOouUuuUuUut.... IiIiIiiiInnNnnNnn.... OooOoOoouUuuuUut...._ his body shuddering with each breath as he tried to expel the fear, pain, and... _IiIiiIIiiiInNNnn.... OoOooOOoouUuUuuUut.... IiIiiIIiiiIinnNnNnnN.... OOooOooOoouUuuUuUut...._ Whatever else it was that now had a hold of him.

"Besides," Guile began, still sounding weak, "I had to make a decision between your pouches and your arms. I feel I made the right decision," he said, getting back to his feet as he did.

His stomach dropped at the thought of his arms lying limply beside his body as the walking dead attempted to brutally dissect him, and with everything else, he was uncertain for a few moments whether or not it would be capable of keeping itself in check. As he took another shuddering breath, he tried to argue, far less forcefully, "I don't know whether or not you're kidding about my..." shuddering again, he continued, "arms... but I thought you had nothing to fear from the walking dead. And after all that... whatever it was you just did, why would you have to _make a decision_ about anything?" he asked, carefully pulling himself to his feet on the overhang behind him.

"I don't make it a habit to _kid_ about arms," Guile responded, his voice getting back its usual Guile charm, "but as I've said before, my lack of concern is due in part to the choices I make. You are thankful to be here, are you not?"

Not liking where this conversation was going, and realizing that trying to get a straight answer from Guile was most likely a waste of his time, he changed course, "Yeah, and I still don't know what you're playing at, but you probably left my things on purpose. You didn't want me to..." trailing off as he realized that they were not in sight of the structure, he looked around and tried to figure out _where_ they were.

"The building is over there," Guile informed him, pointing off towards a hill that rose steeply, and was dotted with trees.

"Why..." he began.

"This is where I first found you," was the response.

"Why..." he tried again.

"Where else would I bring you when you no longer have the capacity to choose for yourself where you end up?" Guile asked, seemingly serious.

"You could try the structure," he answered incredulously, a little bit of ire creeping into his voice.

"You haven't even seen fit to build so much as a bed there," Guile answered, "So why would I assume you want to sleep there more so than anywhere else?"

His mind was reeling at the ridiculousness of Guile's claims. That _any_ person would choose waking up in the dirt over waking up with a roof over their head was an absurd statement. He was hesitant to argue too heatedly though. After almost coming to terms with the fact that Guile would intermittently creep him out, he now had that whole new horror show to worry about. He had no illusion that Guile was dangerous before, but now...

"How am I supposed to go collect my things without a weapon when they're down in those caves?" he asked, testing himself to walk towards where Guile had indicated the structure was.

"I am not sure what it is you're afraid of in the daylight," was the response, "The rabbits around here aren't as dangerous as they may look to you."

Glaring, but still wary about engaging Guile again, he took a few successful steps and began heading towards the structure to make sure the well dressed gentleman was still there. "I was worried about the slimes," he appended as he walked.

"Hehehe, were it night, you would sound marginally less pathetic. But as you should recall, they are non-violent during the day. At least not at the shallow depth you had descended to," Guile answered him, following behind him.

Stopping and moving to the side so that he could see Guile, he gestured for his guide to walk past, "After you," he said, a little shakier than he liked.


	15. The Well Dressed Gentleman

His guide stopped, giving him an amused look, "Why ever would I walk with you behind me? How do I know I can trust you?" he asked, clear mockery in his tone.

"You can't," he answered, standing there glaring at Guile.

"Hmmm..." an unfriendly smile touched the corners of Guile's expression, "What if I refuse to walk before you? What will _you_ do?"

"Nothing," he answered back, un-moving.

"So we'll stand here all day then?" Guile asked, "You do realize that while you act out your foolish fear induced fantasies, the gentleman back at the structure slips slowly further from your wasted efforts?"

Un-moving, but not as sure, he continued to glare at Guile, "You've proven time and time again that I can't trust you. Why would I walk with you behind me?"

"In darkness, surrounded by the walking dead you cannot escape _me,_ " he responded, his voice cutting through him with that final word, the ambient threat affecting an almost physical sensation in him, "What makes you feel any safer with _me_ in your sight? If _I_ chose to end you, what could you possibly do to stop _me_? Do you truly believe yourself safer anywhere in Terraria? My reach extends from one end of this world to the other. Where _I_ am matters not." he answered, his expression dominated by an almost casual violence.

Realizing that he was right, and that this was truly a futile effort, he slumped against the tree and wondered if he should just give up. His life was the plaything of this obviously deranged person, and there really was nothing he could do about it. Every step he took was just one more step towards whatever it was that Guile had planned for him. What was the point?

"It is good to see you realizing your place in this world," Guile added, before slouching again, "Now if you're done trying to antagonize... _me_ , why don't we continue on to the structure, so that you can satisfy your wasted curiosity and be on your way to regathering your things."

"What's the point?" he asked.

"That is for you to decide," Guile answered.

"If you're just going to kill me, why not just do it, and get this over with. Or do you get some kind of sick pleasure out of playing around with people before you go in for the kill?"

"If I wanted you dead, you would indeed be dead. That is not your role, unless you choose it for yourself. Why, do you _want_ to die?" Guile asked, that infuriating almost smile on his face.

"Of course not!" he yelled, "But I don't want to be toyed with either! What I want is to figure out what's going on, where I am, and how I can go back wherever it is I belong!"

"What you _want_ is to keep talking in the same circles over and over again," Guile responded.

"I'm not the one who talks in circles!" he yelled, springing from the tree towards his G _uide_. "I'm not the one who wigs out and starts making threatening innuendo every time I'm asked a question I don't feel like answering! In fact I'm not the one who's suddenly gone from creepy to violent, so would you please just cut the crap and walk in front of me!" he finished, desperate to have some control over even just this little pointless interaction.

"No," Guile unsurprisingly answered, that horrible self-indulgent smile touching on the corners of his face.

Taking a deep breath, he turned and stormed off towards where Guile had pointed. He was tired of this, of all of it, and the closest thing he had towards hope for something different... if nothing else, was probably dying with the gentleman. Coming up to the structure in short order he didn't pause, and just went straight through the door.

Lying against the opposite wall, looking no better than the previous day, was the well dressed gentleman. Realizing how unlikely it was that Guile had brought him something to eat, he rushed back out the door, almost knocking it into Guile on the way out, and foraged until he found one. Returning to the structure, he went over and kneeled beside the gentleman, rolling him over to face him and cringing at the sight before him.

The gentleman looked precisely as bad as he remembered him looking, and this was after having a full day to recover. He didn't know why he was able to wake up without his injuries from the night before, but this guy wasn't, but he hoped that the healing potion would fix him up anyway. Not for any reasonable reason, more so just because it gave him something to be working towards that wasn't aligned with Guile's machinations.

Shaking the gentleman, he was relieved when he got a response, even if it was just a grunt. Trying a little harder to rouse him, he succeeded in getting the gentleman to open his eyes, though even that looked as if it took an enormous amount of energy.

"What..." a voice that came out as little more than a whisper asked.

"You need to eat something," he replied, and realizing that he should probably get the gentleman a drink as well... he realized that it had been quite some time since the last time _he'd_ had a drink...though... he wasn't thirsty. The mushrooms must have somehow taken care of his thirst as well. A boon he was thankful for at the moment, as he had nothing to carry water in.

"Uhh..rrrr..." the gentleman moaned, trying to turn back over. Holding him put, he broke a piece of the mushroom off and placed it in the gentleman's mouth, surprised that the rest of it didn’t vanish as it did when he ate them. He watched as the bite dissolved, and the gentleman swallowed, which seemed to encourage him to open his mouth without resisting this time. After feeding the gentleman the entire mushroom, he was pleased to note that even just that seemed to improve his shallow breathing.

"Where am I?" the gentleman asked him, his voice still weak, but stronger he thought, realizing that it might just be his hopeful thinking.

"I don't know," he answered.

"Where is that other guy?" he was asked, "The one who has been watching over me."

"I'm right here," Guile answered from the doorway, his tone carrying none of the concern that one would associate with someone who was _watching over_ someone.

"Stay away from him Guile," he said, knowing how futile trying to threaten him was.

"Didn't you hear the gentleman," Guile replied, a mocking tone entering his voice, "I've been _watching over him_ , and all this time you've been accusing me of something dire." a smirk that only served to aggravate him more touching his face.

"I don't think you realize how little he cares for your wellbeing," he said to the gentleman, or at least he was trying to say, but the gentleman had drifted off again.

Getting up, he walked out the door and around the back of the structure, heading towards where Guile had left his pouches, while ignoring the closed mouth chuckle that followed him out the door. He was going to go straight back to where he'd last been, grab his pouches, return with the healing potion to hopefully cure the well dressed gentleman, and then he'd plan out from there. That was all assuming Guile hadn't done something to the potion when he came for him.

Something about that bothered him though. It was obvious Guile didn't want him dead. _Painfully_ obvious. But he didn't really seem to want to help him either. While Guile's words seemed to indicate a lack of concern for his wellbeing, the simple fact that he rescued him from the zombies sent an entirely different message.

As he reached the rocky, levitating, terrain, he stopped for a moment to let a wandering slime pass. Watching it, as the sentient blob of goo bounced along its way, he was almost envious. That slime had nothing to worry about. No strings being pulled by some kind of twisted puppet master, no concern for where it was, or where it was going. In fact, remembering that the slime was simply a bi-product of the world's magic, he realized that it probably didn't even really have the ability to think about any of that. How nice that must be for it...

Realizing that he'd just been standing there staring at a bouncing blob of goop for the past few minutes, he looked over the edge to make sure there wasn't anything threatening below, and finding the platform he'd made before, lowered himself down. Getting to the ground from the platform, he tried to remember which fissure he'd crawled into. Walking over to look down them, he found the fissure with his torch set down in it, and considered that this would be a good way to keep track of his exploration going forward. The supplies for making torches weren't that hard to come by after all.

Looking down into the fissure, trying to ensure that there was nothing of concern waiting for him there either, he took a deep breath, and climbed back down into it, his stomach turning to lead as he did. At the bottom, he quickly pulled out the torch fastened there, so as to dispel as much of the shadow as possible, and the fear of what happened the last time he was down here began gnawing at him. Taking the first few shaky steps into the crack in the wall, his ears were strained to the point he was surprised they hadn't exploded from his skull by now as he forced himself to continue forward.

Passing the second torch, his entire body taunt enough that he was surprised his muscles were still capable of movement, he had to almost drag his every step forward as if his legs were hundreds of pounds each. His ears straining to hear any sound outside of his own, he was surprised at how loud his torch was down here, even though its noise still wasn't enough to cover the pounding of his heart, a noise he wished he could soften, as what better advertisement to the walking dead than a warm, rapidly beating heart, that was surely pounding loud enough to rattle the walls. A headache began to develop, which did nothing to encourage him.

Coming up to the third torch, and the bend in the passageway, he paused before rounding the corner. This was is, this is where the zombies attacked him. His plan, that rapidly came tumbling from his subconscious where he hadn't realized he'd been considering it, was to round the bend, grab his belt and his sword, check for the potion, and run back for the surface, not stopping to even breathe if he didn't have to.

Taking a slow shuddery breath, and holding it as he tried to listen for anything outside of the pounding of his heart, he counted down, _One... Two... Three!_ before racing around the corner looking around frantically for anything at all beyond the empty tunnel, and hopefully his pouches and sword. A dark hunched over shadow almost halfway down the corridor stopped him dead in his tracks, and a strangled scream slowly seeped out of him as his heart stopped... at least that's what if felt like.

Everything seemed to pause for a moment, and then move forward as if the world had suddenly begun to move in slow motion. The torch fire even submitted to this new speed, and delicately swayed in the darkness, as if moving to slow deliberate music that only it could hear in the emptiness left by the silencing of his heartbeat. For what seemed like an eternity he stood there, frozen, his gaze focused on the crouching shadow, as if he could will whatever it was away by raw fear alone.

One breath, barely inhaled through a throat that he hoped would one day loosen, slowly seeped out, and he could feel his head growing lighter. Knowing that if he didn't start breathing again, he might not ever again do so, he took a deep painful breath, and fell coughing to the ground, sure that whatever that hunched shadow was would now descend upon him. Several deep rough cough addled breaths later, and still going, he dared to look up towards the shape, and wondered at why it simply sat crouching where it was.

Forcibly getting his breathing back under control, and hopelessly trying to slow the beating of his heart, he dared stand again and holding the wall for support, took a step toward the shape, his torch miraculously still in hand. The edges were too clean for it to have been a person... or zombie, as he'd initially thought. Another step, and staring at the thing as if it were the only shape he could see... which wasn't far from the truth, he tried to make out more from the shape, but could only tell that it had a rounded top, and flat sides.

Another shaky step, followed quicker than before by another, and he was approaching the shape... not believing what his gut initially told him he was seeing. His gut in this case was not mistaken, and after a few more steps, he was within arm's reach of what was undeniably a headstone. _What the hell..._

Crouching down to look at it better, his body slowly trying to work out the tightness fear had gripped in his system, he held the torch where he could read the inscription.

_You were slain by a pack of Zombies._

This was obviously Guile's idea of a joke. And it was just as twisted and messed up as he would expect, coming from Guile. Standing back up, he kicked the tombstone, and was less than pleased when it didn't fall over. In fact, it looked like it had been there for quite some time, as if it had been permanently placed. Muttering under his breath at what constituted as humor in Guile's world, he looked around for his pouches, and found them lying not too far away with his sword beside them.

They looked like they'd been somehow removed from him without having unfastening them. Putting the pouches back on, he checked for the potion, and was relieved to find it within. Going through the rest of what he was carrying he didn't _seem_ to be missing anything. Picking up his sword, he took a moment to listen for any noises outside of his own.

It was kind of funny. This was probably meant to shake him up, but it actually helped calm him down a little. If Guile had enough time to mess around like this, then that meant it hadn't been as bad as he'd thought down here. His _guide_ had probably been following him, just waiting for a chance to do something obscene, and the walking dead had provided that. A small part of him wondered if it hadn't been Guile who had brought the walking dead... though that had implications he didn't want to consider... He did say he _had nothing to fear from the walking dead..._

Hearing nothing other than the low sound of the torches, and his thankfully slowing heartbeat, he attempted to loosen his muscles a little further before heading back to the surface. Simply holding the sword did also help a little with his fear. Not that it had done him too good before, but at least he wasn't as helpless. The trip back to sunlight was quicker than coming down had been, and he even paused for a few moments to look around as his eyes readjusted to the brightness at the top of the fissure, which was considerably brighter, even with the overhanging dirt all around.

There was a clear opening further along that seemed to drop into another passageway headed into the darkness. A small part of him considered glancing down there before heading back, but he didn't want to risk being out too late again. Turning for the overhang that led to hill towards his structure he continued his surprisingly uneventful trip back.

Letting two more slimes pass as he made his way up the hill a thought occurred to him and he checked the coins he was carrying. 2 Silver Coins, and 55 Bronze ones. Pulling the bronze coins out, he noticed that they _bundled_ together in a small pile of coins, looking almost immaterial and solid simultaneously. Moving them around in his hand, he wondered at what he could possibly need coins for. Even if he did manage to find another survivor struggling to get by, why would either of them possibly want coins?

Shaking the thought, he put the coins back in his pouch and finished his trip back to the structure. A small excitement had begun to build up in him. He was hoping this potion would help the gentleman recover, and then he'd finally have someone other than Guile to help him figure things out. Perhaps the gentleman knew more about what was going on than he did... which was almost nothing. Trying to keep his excitement to a reasonable level, he opened the door and entered the structure.

As he entered, he was surprised to see that Guile was not hovering menacingly over the gentleman. Walking over to where he was lying, he crouched down and turned the gentleman back towards him and shook him in an attempt to rouse him again. After a little bit of shaking, the gentleman came too and looked weakly up at him.

"Who are you?" he was asked again.

"Listen," he said ignoring the question, "you need to..." he stopped. Did you drink a healing potion, or was is some kind of salve that you poured onto a wound to help it recover. Pulling the potion out, he looked at it. The liquid wasn't _too_ watery... but that didn't mean anything by itself. "Dammit Guile!" he shouted, figuring that this was the reason his _guide_ was missing.

"Hey, I'll be right back," he told the gentleman before standing and exiting the structure. "Guile!" he shouted when he'd walked a few steps from the building. "Where are you hiding now?!" Silence was his answer.

Looking around, he didn't see Guile hovering nearby like he usually did. "Damn you Guile!" yelled again.

"It's a bit too late for that," the low and usually frustrating voice came from almost directly behind him.

Spinning and jumping back, he bumped into something that hadn't been there seconds before when he turned, and leaping forward with a shout he turned back around to see Guile standing there with nothing nearby for him to have come from behind, for all the world as if he'd been waiting there the entire time.

"You shouldn't be wasting that on him," his _guide_ informed him without waiting for his question.

"Yeah, I know your thoughts on the matter. Just tell me how I use this," he responded, holding the potion up.

"On yourself," Guile replied, that infuriating smirk almost there.

Nodding as he took a deep breath he asked again, "And let's just pretend that I need to use it, how would I go about doing that?" he asked.

"You shouldn't waste it now. You look perfectly fine to me."

"Do we _have_ to play this game!" he shot back, "I just want to know how to use this stupid potion!" he ended in a yell.

Guile narrowed his eyes, almost as if thinking whether or not he should answer before responding in a tone that sounded... resigned? "He should drink it. It's a potion, they're to be drank," shaking his head as he answered.

Turning back to the structure he went in and back over to kneel next to the gentleman, who thankfully was still somewhat conscious. "Here, drink this," he said, lifting the gentleman's head before holding the strange shaped vial to his lips.

"What..." the gentleman asked, an almost concerned expression on his face.

"I think it'll help you recover from that attack. It's strange for you to be so out of it still, and this is a healing potion," he responded, hoping that he wasn't wrong.

Still wearing an expression that didn't seem too comfortable with this, the gentleman closed his eyes and said, "Okay..."

Tilting the vial up, he watched as it smoothly poured almost straight down the gentleman's throat, leaving not even a drop behind. He was surprised the gentleman hadn't choked on it as quickly as it poured. The effect it had though was instantaneous. From weak and helpless, to only a little tired looking, the gentleman took a deep contented breath and closed his eyes, before lying his head back down noticeably better off than he'd been just moments before.


	16. Who are You?

Standing up, he looked back toward the doorway, and was unsurprised to see Guile standing there. "So now what, do I just let him sleep?" he asked, "He already looks quite a bit better."

"Thanks to you, yes, his is already _quite a bit better_ ," Guile responded. "What you do is as I've told you time and time again, entirely up to you. I would recommend not wasting any more time or resources on the gentleman though, and moving forward with your goals. Did you manage to find the resources you needed before your body was mangled by the walking dead?"

"About that," he responded, remembering the tombstone, "That was real cute back there, putting the tombstone up where I got attacked. I realize what could have happened if you hadn't shown up. Had you not saved me the zombies would have killed me, I got it. And yet you still threaten me, freak out on me, and then you do whatever the heck that was you did when I woke up this morning. This is all a game for you, and there's nothing I can do about. I get it. You don't have to keep rubbing it in every chance you get." he ended his rant.

"I never claimed to have stopped the zombies from killing you," Guile answered him simply, his infuriating smirk touching the corner of his lips.

"So I'm dead then?" he snapped back, feeling a sick sensation as his gut dropped at the thought.

"Do you feel dead?" Guile asked him, the smirk deepening.

"So I'm not dead?" he asked, the sensation not leaving him.

"I didn't say that," Guile replied.

Taking a deep breath, as he didn't want to fall into Guile's little mind game, he tried another approach before getting out of this conversation, "Why did you put the tombstone there?"

"I didn't."

"Where did the tombstone come from?"

"The magic of this world."

"What was the point of it?" he tried, hoping that by keeping the questions going he would continue to get answers.

"The world creates a tombstone when it is ready to consume you," was the half answer.

"So..." he was having a hard time putting words together as the idea fell upon him, "I was about to be consumed?" he managed to just get out.

"The world would not have created a tombstone were it not ready to do so."

He fell to his knees and felt a flash of... _something_... something that ripped the contents of his stomach from him and splayed them across the otherwise clean wooden floor. It was almost a memory, a memory that he could feel, but that there were no words for. Just as quickly as it came upon him, it went from him, and he was left on his hands and knees trying to get his breathing back under control. Whatever it was, Guile's little games paled in comparison. And as strange an idea as it was, that comforted him in some small way.

* * *

The Builder's ignorance was infuriating. Gallivanting about as he did, wasting time on trivial, fruitless tasks... Guile could not believe that one so simple could possibly be the vessel for his faded hope. The signs were all there however, so he would continue to guide him...

* * *

As he returned to mostly normal breathing, he began looking at the mess he'd made, and he wasn't sure what to do about it. He didn't really have anything to clean it up with, and he wasn't feeling the best at the moment in any case. Looking up, he saw that Guile had stepped back outside. _Figures_ he thought to himself. Getting to his feet, and idea struck him.

Pulling his axe out, he knelt down and swung it at the floor near the mess creating an ugly gash in the floor, but without the _feeling_ he was looking for. Frowning at the floor, he tried swinging again, but this time he tried to imagine the floor coming up in a chunk. The second ugly gash was less than encouraging. Looking behind him at the well dressed gentleman, he was almost surprised to see that he was still sleeping with the racket he was making nearby.

"Why are you using your axe for that?" Guile asked him from the opening near the door.

"It's wood," he responded curtly, raising the axe for another attempt.

"Yes... but it's _finished_ wood," his _guide_ interjected.

Lowering his axe, he took a deep breath, and looked up to the opening, "So?"

"So..." Guile replied, giving him a look that seemed to communicate how stupid he thought he was, "you don't use an axe on _finished_ wood."

"Then what _should_ I be using?" he snapped, "My sword? Maybe I should be _attacking_ the floor now that it's _finished_!"

"If you would like to keep wasting your time and damaging the floor, then by all means _attack_ away," was the almost dismissive response.

"And if I don't want to be wasting my time..." he replied through clenched teeth.

"You might try using a wooden hammer."

"And where might I get one of those?" he asked, anger still very present in his tone, "Or do you happen to have one lying around that you've been saving for this moment?"

"I have no need for a hammer. But if you wish to have one, there's no reason you cannot craft one for yourself," Guile answered him with an audible shrug, and even as he said it he knew it to be so.

Shuffling over to the strange stool, he pulled 8 pieces of wood from his pouches in accordance with the strange impulses he had when around that thing. Pulling two from the stack side by side to form a handle, he gathered the remaining six in his other hand. As he pushed the two into the center of the bundle of six, he could _feel_ the hammer coming together as the bundle condensed, and solidified into the head. The handle smoothed out as well, and all of this in sync with a solid _thrumm_ from the stool.

Looking at the new tool in his hand, he noticed that the same strange tree symbol from the stool and his sword was _etched_ into the sides of the hammer's head. "What is this symbol?" he asked looking up to the opening for Guile.

Getting no answer, he snorted to himself and turned back to the mess and the damaged wood.

Striking the wood near the mess, he saw the now familiar shudder in the surface and could _tell_ that it was working. After two more strikes, the wood came apart from the surrounding floor, leaving a small opening that the surrounding wood 'just' didn't quite cover up. The panel immediately went into his pouches, he assumed with the others he still had.

Working around the mess, he removed the flooring surrounding it in hopes that the floor containing the mess would come loose when he was done. This was not the case. While there was a clean dividing line now separating the sullied flooring from the rest of the floor, it was no looser now than it had been before. Glaring down at the mess, he considered his options.

"Why are you tearing up the floor?" he was asked by a voice through the opening near the door.

"Because I figure the room would look better with a window down here," he retorted, "and why do you keep disappearing when I want to ask you a question about how to do something, only to come back in just enough time to harass me for doing it wrong?"

"I didn't realize you were so helpless that you needed guidance on cleaning up after yourself," Guile responded, his usual sarcastic tilt to his words in full effect, "but in that case, you could use dirt, or a gel to sop that up."

"Yes, because that's an obvious answer. Got a spill? Throw some dirt and slime at it. That'll clean 'er right up!" he snapped back.

"So why didn't you think of it yourself then?"

"Grrrragggldlblblbldgggg....." he expressed his stress incoherently.

"Soo....." Guile prodded him.

Putting the hammer up before pulling a chunk of dirt out, he smooshed it down onto the mess and rubbed it around as if trying to mop it up with the curiously gelatiny bundle of dirt. This only succeeded in sloshing the mess around the floor, and then dripping it from the bottom of the chunk of dirt. Disgusted, he tried to _fasten_ the dirt to the floor to get it out of his hand, and was pleased when it melded perfectly with the wood, covering most of the mess. Pulling a few extra chunks of dirt out, he fastened those around it, and now the mess was securely contained in the dirt.

Not sure how to proceed, he pulled the pick axe out and pulled up the dirt he'd just placed, careful not to touch any of the chunks, though they just went straight into his pouches, he was pleased to note that the wood underneath was as clean as it had been when first he'd set it down. He was less pleased when he considered the fact that there were now vomit covered chunks of dirt taking up residence in his pouches.

"What do you think happens when a mess of any kind is left out in nature," Guile answered his unspoken thoughts.

"Can you read my mind?" he asked looking up at the opening.

"I don't need to when your face broadcasts your thoughts so plainly," was the answer.

Scowling, he wondered at the truth of it and decided that not only wouldn't it surprise him, but that in the end... he really didn't care.

Putting the rest of the panels back into the floor, he stood up and stretched. Looking back at the well dressed gentleman, he was amazed at how soundly he was able to sleep. The gentleman truly looked quite a bit better. On an impulse, he went outside to look around the clearing.

"I've got some of the stuff you wanted me to gather," he rattled off to Guile as he walked past him, "I didn't see any cobwebs though."

"You didn't go far enough out," Guile was quick to respond.

"Yeah, well I can build some of the hundred and two things I need to build to get a bed made at least. Tell me what to do," he replied as he turned back to face his guide.

"So you're going to start building the tools out here?"

"Not, really. I'm just coming out here so that I don't wake him," he gestured towards the structure with his head, "while I'm doing this."

"Yes. because you've been so quiet up until this point," Guile quipped.

"Whatever, just tell me what I need to do first."

"You don't _need_..."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. I just want to know what order I need to build all these things you told me I needed."

A strange smile touched the corner of Guile's lips, "That is..."

"Entirely up to me," he interrupted Guile again, "Listen, if you just want to sit out here being a pain in the arse, I'll just try and figure it out for myself. I thought you were supposed to guide me though, which is why I waste so much time trying to get answers out of you,"he finished his rant.

"I believe that this is the first time you've answered one of your own stupid questions. Perhaps you are learning something after all," was the reply he got, complete with an obviously mock look of shock.

"I would be learning more," he sighed, "if you wouldn't make it so difficult for me to ask you about things." He realized though that Guile was right, but not in the way he thought. He wasn't as afraid of his guide, and he didn't know what changed that. Not worrying about it for the moment, he reached into his pouches to list off the items he _did_ have, and came across the metal band he'd wanted to ask about.

"Hey," he started as he pulled it out and held it out to Guile, "What is this, and what does it do?"

"That," Guile answered, taking the band from him, "is a Brisk Shackle."

"When I put it on my wrist earlier, it kind of reacted strangely. One moment I could feel it's weight, and the next, not so much."

"And this is a problem because?"

"I didn't say it was a problem," he retorted, "What I asked, was what it was doing. I don't like the idea that having put it on me, that ring could have had some kind of crazy effect on me."

"It's effect does not linger beyond the point at which it is removed. A shackle isn't an accessory of any real value, but while you're building up your personal arsenal, it is certainly better to have something than nothing," he was answered.

"My personal what?" he responded incredulously, "Why in the world would I build up an arsenal?"

"To defend yourself. Why do you carry a sword?" Guile asked.

"Because at any moment, I'm worried some new kind of horror may pop up and try to have it's way with me," he shuddered, though the fear he felt wasn't something he had words for. All he knew was that it was related to that flash of... _something_ inside, "And while I'm not confident that I could stop something horrible from happening to me if I actually was assaulted by a new kind of horror," his stomach was beginning to sour on this subject, "at the least I could try."

"And that is why you will build an arsenal," his guide responded, with a small, but visible, self-satisfied smirk.

He didn't like the implications of needing to carry an arsenal around with him. While he'd not had too much trouble accepting the fact that he could combat the slimes, and would occasionally need to defend himself from the walking dead... carrying a stash of equipment insinuated an entirely different kind of lifestyle, one that he wasn't interested in.

"So, what _exactly_ does that _Brisk Shackle_ do to me when I put it on?" he tried asking.

" _Exactly_ is a hard question to answer," Guile started, tossing the metal band back to him, "Because you are not of this world, the magic of this world responds to you differently than it would those native. That's not to say that you cannot come to count on _some_ understanding. For example, that shackle will allow you to move ever so slightly faster than you could on your own."

Looking down at the _Shackle_ , he wondered at that. Putting it on before had felt strange... but for a metal band to make him "Move Faster"... he didn't know what to think about it. Then again, a stool _shows_ him how to build things, tools work based on his _intent_ , and he had multiple times managed to _fasten_ objects to an area outside of his reach. So in the grand scheme of things, this wasn't _so_ strange...

"What long term affect would wearing this have on me?" he asked.

"You will be able to move ever so slightly faster for as long as you wear it. That is all."

"You keep emphasizing how I'm _Not of this World_ , will wearing this have an increasingly more powerful, or decreasingly less powerful effect over time?" he tried clarifying.

"Why would it do that?" Guile asked him.

"I don't know. I'm just trying to figure out how safe this thing is to wear," he grumbled.

"Unless you intend on getting your wrist caught up somewhere that would snag on the Shackle, there's no danger in wearing it," Guile answered him.

This was another record for Guile. Several answers in a row, and minimal snark. He didn't know what to do with it, but he didn't want to lose an opportunity for answers. Putting the metal band on his wrist, he could feel that same "There but not" sensation from before. Moving his arm around, his eyes were caught by the little chain that dangled from it.

"How do I _use_ this?" he tried another question.

"How do you use it for what?"

"You said this will make me _ever so slightly_ _faster_ , so how do I make it do that?" he added.

"It already is. Just the act of putting it on has that effect."

"So right now, I'm faster? How can I see that?" he asked.

"Run from here to those trees, first with the _Shackle_ on, then without it." his guide suggested.

Looking up at the trees, he decided to give it a try, but he wanted to reverse it. So he took the Shackle off, and ran towards the trees. Reaching them, he put the Shackle back on, and ran back. The sensation was bizarre, and definitely subtle. It was like each step carried him _just_ a little further than it had just moments ago. He couldn't tell by watching his feet fall, but he could _feel_ it...

After finishing his test, he decided that there was no reason _not_ to wear the shackle. Especially considering that with the condition his clothes were in, he wasn't exactly making any kind of a fashion statement. On that thought...

"If there's a way to make a bed, surely there's got to be a way to make some clothes here, right?" he asked Guile.

"There is," was the answer.

"Let me guess, I'll need 50 Rabbit Pelts, 25 Slime Hearts, 15 Bird Tails, 120 Pieces of Wood, and all the Iron I can mine, and I'll have the coolest shoes money can't buy," he quipped.

"There are ways to impose one's will upon the very fabric of this world's magic," Guile started, "I do not believe you have such capabilities, which means you are limited to the designs already present in the world."

Almost as if talking to himself, Guile added, "It has been quite some time since this world grew... perhaps..."

A chillier breeze brushed across his skin, the timing of which was almost obscene. Looking up, he realized that the sun was most of the way across the sky. He'd lost track of the day between one thing and the other.

"Great, now there's no time to gather anything else. I don't think I'm ever going to stop sleeping on the floor," he fussed, to no one in particular.

Not getting any kind of a response from Guile, not that he had expected one, he went back into the structure, and watched as the Well Dressed Gentleman sat up of his own accord. Standing there stunned, he just continued watching as after looking down at himself and distractedly knocking some dirt from his coat and slacks, he stood up and looked around.

"Where am I?" the gentleman asked.

"Terraria," Guile answered from behind him the doorway.

"And who are you," the gentleman asked Guile, jumping as if he hadn't noticed him standing there before, while wearing an expression that clearly communicated his confusion with the first answer.

"He calls me Guile," his _guide_ answered, almost pushing past him to get into the building.

"You know," he quipped, looking over at Guile, "It's nice to know you can answer questions straight when you want to. It's almost like you're going for some kind of new record here."

"This gentleman hasn't gone out of his way to waste my time," Guile responded to him, "The only reason he's wasting time now is because _you_ could not leave well enough alone."

"Wait," the gentleman chimed in before he could shoot back a response, "what do you mean he couldn't leave well enough alone? What has he done outside of bringing me that drink that made me feel so much better?"

"Running through the litany of things he has wasted time on would only deter you from your role unnecessarily," Guile answered, the snark back in full force.

"Wait, what do you mean my role?" the gentleman asked, looking around as if he'd lost something, before finding his hat lying in the corner.

"It is not my role to guide _you_ towards fulfilling your role. You are capable of accomplishing that on your own."

"Hey," he butted in, getting the gentleman's attention now that Guile was going to start dancing around questions again after all, "He's only helpful in small doses. The rest of what comes out of his mouth is either a threat, or a senseless dancing of words," he informed the Gentleman, "Let me ask you something though, where do you come from?" he tried, hoping for something more than...

"I don't remember," the gentleman responded, looking down and absently knocking the dust off his hat.

"What do you remember?" he tried another question, a little less hopeful than he'd been before.

"I remember... music, and a crowd of people... they were all there for me and..." all the color drained from his face, and terror filled it in, "Kathryn!" he lunged for the door. Jumping to stop the Gentleman, he wasn't sure what was going on.

"Hey! Wait a second! You can't go out there this late, it's almost night!" he shouted as he grappled with the Gentleman, who was desperately trying to push past him.

"I don't care what time it is! She's out there all alone!" the Gentleman screamed at him, "I can't just hide here while god knows what happens to her!"

Feeling sick, even as he said it, he tried to reason with the Gentleman, "You've been here for more than a day recovering, if she's still out there, she's probably hiding, but getting yourself killed trying to find her won't help!" he yelled as he tried to shove the Gentleman away from the door.

Thankfully, the Gentleman stepped back away from the door. Looking up, he was greeted with what seemed to be a bright flash of light that came along with a ringing in his ears that accompanied an intense headache and the feel of wood against his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I know you don't need to be near the workbench to craft a Hammer, and You know you don't need to be near a workbench to craft a hammer... but He doesn't know. This whole preternatural knowledge thing is still kind of new to him, so cut the guy some slack. ;P
> 
> I do wonder though... would that symbol have been etched into the Hammer if he hadn't crafted it at the workbench?... Guess we'll never know... >.> Also WOOT! A 'Full' set of tools! Sheet's getting REAL up in here... ;P
> 
> When I first wrote the last section of Chapter 15, it went straight from "Gives Gentleman Potion" to "Gentleman wakes up and promptly dashes out". While this may not seem to be a problem, I wanted the Gentleman to dash out at night, and that wouldn't have worked the way it was originally written. So pretty much all of Chapter 16 grew from that. 
> 
> In fact, once I started with the Tombstone talk, it was hard to corral them back to the Gentleman. ;P Though I'm glad it worked out like that, because now he's got a full set of tools, and he's wearing his first piece of armor. ^.^


	17. Now What...

"I will admit," Guile's voice cut in, right on cue, "I've never seen a workbench used as a Weapon before."

"Is that what it was," he responded, blinking up at the ceiling as he waited for his head to clear, and the ringing to subside.

After a few moments he pulled himself up and because he still wasn't _quite_ clearheaded, took a moment to steady himself by righting the workbench and moving it back to the center of the room. He wondered at the fact that almost every day since he'd woken up here, he'd been knocked unconscious at some point in the day. He wasn't any kind of doctor... but that just didn't seem to be the healthiest way to go about his day.

"How long..." he began to ask.

"It's about halfway through the night," Guile answered his incomplete question, "The Gentleman has been gone for several hours now."

As he looked towards the door, Guile added, "I would have thought you'd know better by now."

"I'd ask you what I should do, but I already know what you're going to say," he responded, rubbing his head in a futile effort to stop the ringing that was now accompanied by an occasional *KThunk*, and the low moaning of a zombie waiting outside for him.

A gurgling of his gut prompted him to pull a mushroom out of his pouches, almost without thinking about it. As he ate it, washing away the hunger, his head instantly cleared up as well. Frowning he turned to Guile, "Do Mushrooms...?"

"Yes, they have some restorative properties. In fact, those mushrooms can be used to create the potion you wasted on the Gentleman."

Staring at Guile in disbelief... no that wasn't right, he believed it... but, "Really! Are you kidding me!?" he yelled in any case.

"Why would I kid about the components of a Lesser Healing Potion?" Guile asked him, in an almost scripted casual manner that only served to further frustrate him.

"You knew I was trying to find one of these potions to help the Gentleman recover!" he shouted, as if by raising his voice he could better articulate his point, "And knowing this, you didn't even consider mentioning to me that I could use a _Mushroom_ to create a potion here!"

"Where are your Bottles?" Guile asked him, as usual unfazed by his anger.

"What!?" he replied, still frustrated and now the edge of his anger blunted by his confusion.

"How would you have created a lesser healing potion without bottles?"

Taking a deep breath, he responded, "Okay, so of course I needed more than the mushrooms. Where would I get bottles?" he asked as he tried to calm down.

"You can generally find them in chests near the surface, but it is easier to create them yourself," Guile answered.

"And where do I find chests?" he asked.

"You can find chest all over Terraria," was the pro-typical Guile response.

"Forget it," he decided to try and change tracks, "How do I _make_ bottles?"

"With glass. And you don't _find_ that," he thankfully added, "you make it out of sand."

"And let me guess, you find sand in a Desert or on the Beach," he snarked back.

"Precisely. Though you can sometimes find it underground as well," Guile answered without pause.

"Oh, but of course," he sighed. This conversation wasn't what was really bothering him. He felt like he was stalling... from what he thought he _should_ do. *KThunk* though the sounds right outside the building reminded him why he wasn't...

Looking at the door again, he considered his chances of first, finding the Gentleman, and then second, convincing him to come back to safety. He was also not sure he could do all this while constantly running and dodging the walking, flying dead. Pulling his sword out, he took a step towards the door.

"You must be very eager to join the rest of the failed outsiders consumed by this world," Guile spoke at him.

"No... but I'm also not okay with hiding in here every night. I may not be able to find the Gentleman, but I can at least learn to defend myself against the creatures of the night," he responded as he reached for the door. _What am I doing!?_ he screamed to himself internally.

"Why don't you make yourself some armor before you go out and try to get yourself killed?" he was asked.

Stopping, he turned to look back at Guile, "Do I have what I need to make armor _right now_?"

"Some of it. But..."

He opened the door, and the creatures of the night were only too willing to accept the invitation. As he turned the handle, the zombie scratching at the door burst through, quicker than he'd expected, and the fight was on.

Stumbling back at the sudden force from the door, he was thankfully able to pull his sword up into a upward slice that caused the zombie to hop backwards a step before it could embrace him. _This is crazy_ , he had moment to think. No this was worse than crazy, it was suicidal. Here he was in a cramped structure, with nowhere to run, and he'd just removed the only barrier between himself and the dangers of the night.

Moving forward with a downward cut that flowed comfortably from the end of his first strike, he met the zombie as it tried to invade his space once more, and he tried to keep his mind on the fight. That was his only hope of making it out of this insane impulse of his alive. Not letting up, he raised his sword in a diagonal cut that pushed the creature back into the doorway and he took a step forward prepared to keep pushing. With his next strike the sword _thrummed_ lightly and the zombie was pushed completely out of the door.

Not letting up, he stepped into the doorway, and just barely managed to duck as a flying eye skimmed the top of the door frame, ending up in the structure. This cost him enough time for the zombie to get close enough to graze his face with it's clawed hand, but not so much time that he wasn't able to retaliate with a sideways cut the pushed it back off of him, his heart now reaching new heights in its attempt at beating its way out of his chest.

_Guile is in there with the eye_ , and even as he thought it, he almost laughed. Like Guile had anything to worry about, and putting his attention back on the problem at hand he pressed forward getting another _thrumm_ from the sword as he reached out with his weapon.

Several unbelievably uncontested strikes later and the Walking Dead fell apart, much like the creature from a few nights before. He was winded, and his face still burned, but he was okay. He wasn't sure if the surge he now felt was a rush of exhilaration that he'd survived, and actually done rather well in his eyes, or the final moments before his rush of fear faded and he fainted. As he was still conscious he assumed the former, and turning back to the door, he was greeted by an unpleasant scene.

* * *

The Builder had let the Demon Eye in, and then walked out to play with the Zombie, as if it were perfectly normal for a Demon Eye to bounce around the structure. He wasn't afraid, that emotion had left him long, long ago... but he was... irritated. He had no interest in getting banged up by so simple a creature, and with the limited space, avoiding it would be difficult.

*KThunk* it smashed into the wall beside him. Stepping towards the center of the room he, casually to any eyes that would have been watching, ducked as it came crashing down onto the workbench, moving it a few paces across the floor. Continuing across the room, he moved to beside the door, and *KThunk*, the stupid thing went crashing into the wall beside the door.

Steeping to the side, he allowed it to come at him in the doorway before he stepped aside once more...

* * *

Guile was standing in the doorway looking out at him.

"Hey, I killed... Rrrraaaaaggggghhhh..." he shouted, throwing himself to the ground as the flying eye came out from behind his guide.

Turning and swinging his sword at the air above him, he lucked out and connected with the eye, causing its mass to indent slightly as it hit the blade with enough force to push the blade back down towards him, but thankfully not too close, before sending it wobbling off in a different direction in the air. Heart now racing back at full throttle, he quickly scrambled to his feet and prepared to swing out at the eye as it launched itself at him again.

Connecting with it a second time, he was prepared for the force of its impact, and this time the blade wasn't forced back towards him, and in fact, his strike carried enough force to knock the eye back away from him and send it wobbling off in the air for a second. His heart was racing, his blood was pounding, but he wasn't afraid. He felt invincible, and with his third strike the blade _thrummed_ as if it too was prepared to take on the world.

The third strike knocked the Eye back further still, and in his over eager state, he moved forward to pursue it, or he would have, had it not wobbled up into the air, and out of his reach. Tracking it as it almost drunkenly swam through the air for a moment, he was prepared when it dove down at him, and greeted its assault with another taste of his sword.

The eye dove, his sword sliced, and it didn't take too many rounds of this before, as his sideways slice connected with the side of the eye, the exterior that had up to this point been only lightly malleable, flexed inward like a slime's membrane, before bursting outward with all the contents of the eye, and tearing right in half as it burst, the two halves falling to the ground in a now mushy mess.

Catching his eye there was a clear bowl shape, not quite half the size of the eye still remaining amongst the rest of the mush. Picking it up, he noticed that it seemed to be firm, and yet not _Hard_.

"It's a Lens," Guile informed him.

"You!" he shouted turning towards the structure, "You sent that Eye out to attack me!" he added, pointing his sword in Guile's direction.

Guile's face broke a sliver of a smile that he could feel race down his spine, sending tendrils branching out across his back, some of which intertwined down his arm tightening the muscles there and opening his hand so that the sword dropped out of it.

"And," he said, his voice taking on that hollow violence, each word echoing through him in an almost physical fashion, "What if I did?" he asked, taking a step towards him, while not seeming to step, that surreal pearly purple color of his eyes standing out as his gaze seemed to look right through him.

"I'm afraid you seem to be under the impression that you have _any_ power over me. Your actions as of late have been..." both arms were gripped by the invisible tendrils and once again pulled violently down and to his sides, forming an A shape with his body and leaving his chest pushed out and exposed, "less than appreciative to the one who to whom you owe your existence."

"Yeah," he retorted, fighting to keep his voice as normal as possible, "maybe that's because this is the way you react whenever I say anything even remotely challenging," he got out, the whole while he was screaming in his head, _Stop talking, What are you saying, Have you lost your mind!?!?_

The smile widened, and the expression it gave Guile chilled his very blood. It wasn't just the fact that his guide was pulling this crazy new trick, but there was something in that smile, something dangerous. The expression Guile wore somehow conveyed the threat of an eternity of pain, of endless suffering and carried with it a promise to deliver this, and enjoy doing so.

" _You_ ," he stated, a dark laughter in his eyes that he could feel, instead of hear, "imagine that you have even _begun_ to challenge _me_?" He walked without stepping right up to him, his nearness adding a resonance to the tendrils that slowly began tightening every one of his muscles in turn, " _You_ have yet to crawl Fleshling. _I_ have already promised you the chance to cast your life before _me_. Are you so eager to end yourself, that you would threaten _me_ now?" he asked, his voice ending in a low tone that none the less reverberated through him.

Struggling just to speak, which was almost impossible strung up as he was, he managed to breathe out, "Nn...o..." After which he was released to a gale of dark hollow laughter that seemed to shake the very ground beneath him, as he collapsed face down into the dirt, desperately gasping for the air he hadn't realized he was missing. An effort that seemed to take every ounce of strength he had remaining.

Words that impossibly came with the laughter, and were somehow clear in spite of it, spoke to him as he lay there, "You are not as foolish as you put on Fleshling. We shall have our time, worry not..." he said, before collapsing beside him.

He wanted nothing better than to plunge his sword through Guile and leave it there to grow something new, something better. Though even as he had that thought, he also considered what kind of anything could grow from such a twisted and broken creature. For he didn't really consider Guile as another person. Nothing he did could be considered personable, and besides that, he'd never have the chance. If all Guile had to do was look at him to do _this_ to him... he couldn't imagine what would happen if his _guide_ were to ever actually try and _really_ hurt him.

While he considered lying there until the dead of the night came and had their way with him, he instead pulled his last mushroom out of his pouch, and upon eating it, felt recovered enough to stand. He wasn't hungry, but the now realized healing effects of the mushroom were a welcome boon.

Standing, he looked down at Guile, who had yet to rise, and made a hasty decision. Taking his sword and putting it into his pouches, he turned away from the structure and began to run. Slowly at first, but picking up speed as he got further away from the structure and entered into the trees. Not exactly the safest route with as dark as it was.  
  
*KThunk*

The sound of a Demon Eye crashing into a tree was plenty of motivation for him to continue running, and it was as good a confirmation that he'd chosen as right a way to run as he could have asked for. Pulling a torch out to keep him from making the same mistake, he continued further into the trees.

*KThunk, KThunk, KThunk*

As if to punctuate the point, several other Eyes went crashing into nearby trees. The air was just thick with them all of a sudden. _This_ , he thought, _is probably Guile's doing..._ He had seen Guile send that Demon Eye out of the house at him, and with this other craziness that he'd started pulling there was no reason to think that he couldn't command the Demon Eyes to attack him en masse.

He had no idea where he was going but he didn't want to spend yet another night sleeping in the structure, just hoping that Guile wasn't in the mood to bring the walking, flying dead in to play. Especially not after his newest style of outbreaks. That said, it was far darker than he was expecting, and if it weren't for the torch, he'd have had a hard time avoiding the trees himself.

"Oooooph!" he had the air knocked out of him as an eye just barely avoided missing him. It had thankfully just glanced off of him after solidly hitting a tree in front of him. As it passed, the veiny tendrils that drift along behind the eye flayed at him as if trying to grasp him, but he didn't stop long enough for them to get purchase. Pushing on, and trying to catch his breath in the interim, he began weaving a bit more as he ran... some of which was even intentional.

As he crested the top of a low hill, a shrill whistling sound caught his ear. A shimmering kaleidoscopic light came shooting down from the sky, and a Fallen Star, just as radiant and brilliant as the one he'd seen before, came crashing to the ground not too far behind him in the trees casting a multicolored light that lit up the woods around it. It was stunning in it's vibrant array of colors in the night that moments before had been all but pitch black, and he was nearly blinded at the sight of it.

Unfortunately, the Demon Eyes did not seem to be affected in the same manner, and he was knocked violently to the ground as one of them caught him solidly in the back, before two more took their turns at trying to press him into the dirt.

He was in immense pain but he realized that if he didn't move, and move quickly, the Demon Eyes would make short work of him. So he rolled to the side, not too soon as the Eyes were happily compacting the dirt where he had just rolled off of, and struggled to get back to a run. His drunken unstable scramble was hardly efficient, but it did get him moving quick enough to avoid any further assaults.

As much as he wanted to go back for the Fallen Star, he didn't think it wise in his current condition to push things too far. What he needed, and soon, was a place to hide for the remainder of the night. Unfortunately, he had no idea where he could find such a thing... until...

Up at the top of the next hill was a light... it wasn't the brilliant light of a fallen star, but a dimmer, warmer light. It looked like, catching a break in the trees just right he confirmed it, a torch, stuck in the ground. Rushing up towards it, he was momentarily convinced that he'd found evidence of someone else, someone that wasn't Guile.... but as he reached the top, it came back to him. He'd put this here himself, to remind him...

Looking down the other side, he saw another torch set into the dirt above an opening that was mostly sealed by cross sections of wood, with an opening just big enough for him to get through. Not falling down the hill on this occasion, thanks to warning provided by the torch, he rushed down to the small opening and dove through, taking just enough time to drop the torch, and pull out two pieces of wood to re-close the wooden barrier he'd opened on his way out the last time.

Lying just inside the small cave, he was plenty happy with the dirt for a while as he listened to the *Kthunk* *Kthunk, Kthunk* of the Demon Eyes testing the sturdiness of his barrier. Exhausted, but not ready to pass out quite yet, he picked the torch back up and looked around the little cave anew.

It was just as he remembered, tiny, dirt and stone intermixed with a low roof, and shallow, with a few errant vines growing out of the ceiling. Smaller even than the structure he'd built before. Still, there was no Guile, and since he'd just used wood and hadn't built a door, there was no way in without taking the wooden frame apart. So he wasn't as concerned about something breaking in while he slept. Except perhaps Guile... but he didn't want to think about him for the moment.

Guile had asked him before if he truly felt safe anywhere... and no, he didn't. But he didn't have to stay where his helplessness was abused. At least here, he felt like he was in control of himself. Guile had encouraged him to build the structure, and Guile insisted on staying there. Well that was good for him. He'd found this place, by accident, but nonetheless, he'd found it by himself. This place was his, and Guile could have that structure.

That decided, he placed the torch into the wall and looked around at his new lodgings. He couldn't help but think to himself... _Now What?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure what you guys think about this story, but I love it. The pacing could be considered plodding, but it's always moving forward, even if just in little ways. And I swear the MC gets some of his best development when I wander off on a tangent. ;P
> 
> One element that "Just worked", even though I hadn't intentionally planned it, was the Demon Eye Chase for the end of this chapter. Now sure, I could have just done it regardless of Canon Rules... but 1) I try to deviate from Cannon as little as possible (Doesn't mean I don't, but I try not to change things... I'd rather add or expand them, outside of a few Story Specific elements) and 2) I didn't need to break the rules anywho. This chapter ended on night 5 for the story, which by the game's built in logic will always be a "New Moon", thus Many Eyes... ^.^ (I did some bookkeeping and was just so happy when I discovered this fact.)
> 
> On the subject of Bookkeeping, I noticed that I had accidentally switched the Demon Eye Wood Impact Sound Effect with the Axe Sound Effect. So I'll change the most recent cases (And I've updated my "Master Copy"), but in older cases where an Demon Eye goes *Whump*, you now know I meant *KThunk*. ;P
> 
> If any of you would be so bold, (Because, unless there are three people clicking this thread over and over and over again, there's got to be at least a few of you...) I'd like to ask you to tell me something you like, and something you don't about this story so far. And this can be anything from pacing to the sound effects, environment descriptions to the inventory he's currently carrying, formatting to Guile's annoying habit of repeating himself (Or Anything, these are just potential promts. ;P). Maybe if I ask specific questions I may get a better response. ! And on that thread, I'm also interested in how you feel about the character's progression. Of course to me, it seems gradual, and logical (For Him), but how does it read?


	18. Home is...

As a wave of weariness swept over him, he realized that such high minded thoughts would have to wait until he had rested. Looking around, no patch of dirt looked any softer than another. But on that note...

He pulled one of the dirt chunks out of his pouch and played with it for a moment. There was a definite malleability, sort of an elastic effect to it... which technically made it softer than the ground. Add to that the fact that the dirt didn't come loose, or leave his hands dirty, he decided to try pulling several chunks out one at a time and piling them up on the ground, but was irritated when as he moved towards them, they immediately went into his pouches. Deciding to focus on _not_ picking them up, he tried again with no success.

"Damnit!" he complained. "Why can't I do this!"

*KThunk, KThunk* was the only answer he got.

Lying down, he attempted to hold a bundle of dirt in his hands, and lie with it beneath his head at least. This seemed to work for a bit... but just as soon as he began relax, physically, his mind wasn't going to get that luxury thanks to the Demon Eye concerto, and began to drift off, *Thump*, the bundle went into his pouches and his head hit the dirt.

"Damnit!" jumping up awake again, he started kicking the walls and the barrier, adding his percussion the the ongoing beat.

_How in the heck am I supposed to get to sleep now?_ he asked himself, and why was he having so much trouble. The previous nights... thinking back, _The first night I collapsed here in terror, the second night... I... knocked myself out on the workbench..._ he subconsciously rubbed his head, as if to massage the point of impact, _the third night, I collapsed, exhausted... from saving the Gentleman... Stupid... he's probably dead now..._ Stopping himself from thinking about that too much, he continued, _The fourth night..._ he shuddered, as an icy chill found it's way down his spine. _I have no idea what happened the fourth night... Guile says I was almost consumed by the land... but all I remember was being attacked by the zombies... and then..._ A Flash of a Terrible Laughter struck him like a physical blow, and it was all he could do to keep himself from repeating his act from the morning...

_That was when Guile really took a walk off the deep end. Ever since he saved me from those zombies... his freak outs have gotten worse. I don't know what 'really' happened, but whatever it was... it was bad... Could I have really..._ He couldn't even finish that thought, and the sick sensation that filled him as he tried was almost more than he could handle on top of his already stomach knotting line of thought.

_What I need now... is to get to sleep. I'm tired, but not exhausted. Maybe I should have let the Demon Eyes get a few more licks in..._ Laughing at the thought, he wondered at his humor as of late. Truly it was unhealthy to joke about not coming close enough to being beaten to death, but there it was. _If only my stupid pouches..._

An idea struck him. Standing near the entrance, he tossed a small mound of dirt, one chunk at a time, towards the back of the little cave. He was just far enough for the dirt not to immediately return to his pouches. After he'd thrown out enough, he took his pouches off, and laid them near the wall. Walking towards the dirt now, he was overjoyed to note that they didn't leap towards him. _Yes..._

Waking up, he felt better than he had in the entire time he'd been in this strange place. After finally getting to sleep, which was made more difficult by the fact that as good an idea as the spongy dirt chunks has seemed to his weary self, it had been a nightmare getting them to stay together in any kind of a configuration that he could lay on, he had taken down the torch and slept through the night.

His waking state was due less to his physical comfort however, and due more to his psychological comfort. He had gone to sleep of _his_ own accord, in a place of _his_ choosing, and his day would be under _his_ control. This made him far happier than seemed reasonable. And he just let himself lie there considering what he should do with the day.

Eventually, the rumbling of his gut could not be ignored, and he got to his feet. Throughout the night, the dirt chunks had moved enough that he was lying on the ground with the chunks of dirt surrounding him. At least, he'd managed to keep one of them under his head. Walking over to where he'd set his pouches, he put them back on and walking back to the dirt, was pleased by their rapid return to the pouches.

Looking around at the small cavelet.. he considered making it bigger. If he was going to be staying here anyway, there was no reason he couldn't make it more comfortable. But first... Pulling his axe out, he reopened the barrier and stepped out into the morning. Stretching in the brighter light as his eyes readjusted, he started poking around looking for another mushroom or two.

He didn't have to go too far before he found a few of them hiding in between a tree and small mound of rocks. Eating one, and placing the other three into his pouches, he looked around again and tried to figure out where he was in relation to the Structure.

"It's over that way," Guile's voice came from somewhere behind him.

Jumping, but trying to stop himself from reacting too much... he took a deep breath and replied, "Thanks." before turning to see where Guile was pointing. The expression on his guide's face was amusement, but something else too... "Why do you keep following me?" he asked. He had expected this, Guile had found him every other time he'd wandered off... but it certainly wasn't the way he'd _wanted_ to start his day.

"This is my role," he answered, "Why did you run off last night?"

Taking another deep breath, he wasn't sure how to respond to that, he tried, "I didn't..." changing his answer mid stride, "I..." giving up, he lamely went with, "Last night was crazy."

"Hmmm..." was the only reply he got, that infuriating self satisfied expression now on his _guide's_ face.

"Listen," he started, "I've got... uhh... lot... of... Materials! Yeah, materials to gather today... so... I'll be... uhh... headed out now," he tried excusing himself as he backed away.

"Perhaps you would benefit from some improved protection before you go wandering out again," Guile said to him.

What angered him more than the fact that he couldn't even start his day without running into Guile, was the fact that he was right... and he knew it... but he just... didn't trust him anymore. "No... I'll be okay," he replied.

* * *

_It is Finally time..._ Guile thought to himself. _He is ready to start branching out, and the others will no doubt be on their way. He must however, prepare for them..._

* * *

"One moment," Guile said... an odd tone to his voice. Not anger, or even mockery but... something else.

Stopping, he tensed up, hoping that this wasn't going to turn into another one of his episodes, "Yes?"

"You resist the crafting of armor, I will assume due to your obvious desire to escape my presence," he raised a hand to stop a response, that was almost interjected, "that is of no concern to me. Of concern though is your current intent on hiding out here alone. This world, as you have seen, does not treat kindly with lone souls..."

He laughed internally at the idea of concern coming from Guile, who continued, "If you must _hide_ yourself out here, it would benefit you greatly to collect more money from the remains of your vanquished foes. A sum of 50 Silver will suffice for now."

"What in the world do I need money for?" he asked incredulously, "Are the slimes setting up shop?"

Guile frowned, "There are currently very few slimes capable of such a feat, and it is unlikely that you would have anything of interest to those that could."

Sighing, he responded, "Fine, what _do_ I need money for then?"

"It is obvious to me that you desire a boon that this money will provide you," was the typically cryptic Guile Answer, "And I would make haste in preparing your little cave for habitation in the interim."

"I'll make my cave as habitable as I want," he snapped, before reeling himself in. It infuriated him that even when trying to do things for himself, _Guile_ had to get involved. "And unless you want to say anything else, I'm going," he finished, a little tense at the thought that his guide may react to his temper again.

"Do as you wish, but unless you prepare as I have instructed, you will continue to struggle _alone_."

"Wait..." he asked, "Are you saying that by collecting this money, I won't be alone anymore?"

"I have told you what you must do to remedy your current concerns."

He didn't know if that was an answer to his question... but it almost sounded like one. The idea that gathering coins dropped by the slimes could help him find someone else was... no stranger than anything else he'd been up to so far.

"Okay... so 50 Silver Coins then?" he asked, reaching into his side pouch to check the amount of coins he had already. 3 Silver, 90 Copper. He never really _noticed_ the money that the slimes dropped. Nor the Gel really. But based on the distance at which things projected themselves into his pouches... it made sense.

"And ensure that your hole is habitable," his guide added.

"What do you mean by that?" he gave in and asked.

"Exactly as I have said. No reasonable being would reside in the dirt hole that you currently hide in," Guile informed him.

"So what do I have to do to make it _habitable_?"

"Set it up so that the dirt hovel is suitable for a reasonable person to reside in," Guile informed him.

"Great, so to make my cave _habitable_ , I need to make it _suitable_ ," he snarked.

"Precisely."

"Grrraaaahhh!" he shouted, and stormed off, hoping that he hadn't set Guile off in the process. It was useless trying to get information out of Guile at times. Sure, he gave answers... but they were often useless answers!

Heading to the structure, he walked in and looked around, for what, he wasn't sure. _I wonder..._ he thought to himself. _Is 'this' a 'Suitable' structure?_ , and as he considered it... he _knew_ that Guile's structure was. Just as he _knew_ what was in his pouches when he considered them. Looking around, he tried to figure out _how_ he knew that, but Guile was nowhere to be seen, and he wasn't standing close enough to the Workbench for it's weirdness to have an effect on him.

"What the heck..." he asked, almost surprised when his _guide_ didn't answer him from outside the opening.

Frustrated, but glad that he at least had an answer of sorts... he tried to figure out _what_ made this place _Suitable_ , where his cave wasn't... though... that was something Guile had told him, he hadn't detected it for himself... though up until this point, he hadn't realized _it_ was a thing he _could_ detect... and now his head was beginning to ache... _Well... for one, it's paneled all around... and it's a bit bigger... and... it's a clean box shape, instead of the crazy shape of the cave... perhaps that's all it takes?_ It made him uncomfortable to be considering a _sense_ of things that he didn't even understand.

"You could," Guile informed him as he walked into the doorway that he'd left open, "build additions to this structure. In fact," he continued, "it would simplify things for you greatly, and would allow this place to be a safer haven than it currently is."

"Is it even worth it for me to ask you what you mean by that?" he asked, tired of this conversation before it even began.

"The more people you have in an area, the less you have to worry about the creatures of the night. There is, after all, safety in numbers," Guile answered him a little too reasonable sounding.

He didn't know how to safely say _I don't want to be anywhere near you, ever..._ so he kept his mouth shut on that. But he did try asking, "What makes this place suitable, where the cave isn't."

"It is first and foremost an enclosed space, there is a light here for when night arises, there is a chair here if I ever wish to sit, there is a table here for me to place things on if I so chose. The room is a reasonable size and I have the room to move about unhindered, the walls have been specifically built just for this building, and there is an entrance that allows me to come and go as I please." he rattled off.

Staring, but trying to commit all of that to memory, he tried asking, "What happens once I've met this list of arbitrary conditions?"

"You will no longer be alone."

"And why do I have to do all this first?" he asked.

"That is the way of the magic of this world," Guile replied simply.

"Yeah... I figured you'd say something like that."

Now he wasn't as sure what he wanted to do with the day. The thought of not having to bear this place alone... but wait...

"How does this work?" he asked, kicking himself for the poor wording even as he finished asking.

"The magic of this world is beyond your comprehension," Guile answered.

"No, not that... this whatever you want to call it you're telling me to do," he winced at the realization that even in this he would be going along with Guile's design... "This... gathering money, and making my cave habitable. Where is this person going to come from, and will it be their choice whether or not to come?" he asked.

"None of that matters," was the unsatisfactory answer he got.

"Maybe not to you!" he shouted, before shrinking back and calming himself down enough to continue, "What I mean is, I know _you_ don't care, you've made that perfectly clear... " he winced, "But I don't want to do something that will trap someone else here against their will." his thoughts were on the Gentleman, and his likely fate.

"That is not your decision to make," he was told, "Even if you attempt to avoid it, the magic of this world will have its way. You can resist it, or work with it," Guile's voice dropped on that last word, and and he quickly started backing across the structure, away from the doorway where Guile still stood, "And as much as I would enjoy watching you struggle against the bonds of this world Fleshling," the presence of danger, the unveiled threats, and the gaze that tore through him as a blade through the flesh were all back, "it is not in you to succeed where _better_ have failed," an almost invisible smile that he could _feel_ cut across his chest ended the answer.

"Besides..." falling sideways into the door frame, his guide continued in his normal, though weakened, voice, "you can either seek assistance, or go it all alone. You seem to be trying to avoid my help..."

He laughed internally again at Guile's attempt at pretending this was strange behaviour while listening as he continued, "though that will put you at a disadvantage. The extra help will allow you to progress further than you will be capable of progressing alone."

Rubbing his chest, where he could still feel the fading effect of Guile's, thankfully short, freak out, "Well... unless you can tell me whether or not this will force someone here against their will, I refuse to participate," he ended by pulling the coins he currently carried out of his pouches and throwing them off to the side of the room.

Shaking his head a small smirk, but nothing more, was faintly visible in Guile's expression, "Do as you wish."

* * *

_Foolish Builder. He thinks to resist the pull of this world, even in this. His progress will difficult enough without his ignorant notions impeding his path._ Stepping aside so that the timid human, who unbelievably carried the last fragments of his ever fading hope, could muster up the courage to walk past him through the doorway, he wondered again at how _he_ could possibly be the one he'd been waiting for.

It maddened him that even with the raw power at the Builder's disposal, the power to shape the very world around him with little more than his thoughts, a power that he no longer possessed, even with this power the Builder still acted as if had only recently ventured forth from his mother's care.

"Before I go," the Builder turned before walking more than a few steps from the structure, "What else do I need to gather before I'm able to build a bed?" he asked, "I remember you said that I needed to find some cobwebs..."

He had already listed the required components in detail. It was as if the Builder was incapable of remembering even the simplest things... "In fact, I said that you needed 20 units of stone, 30 pieces of iron ore, both of which yes, you can mine with the pickaxe, 50 pieces of cobweb, 42 pieces of wood and one gel."

Having made a face that either indicated some kind of mental trauma, or perhaps that he was failing once more at listening, the Builder then replied, "I know I can use the pickaxe on the stone and iron," in a petulant tone of voice.

"One would hope that having already gathered some, you would indeed still remember," he answered back, amazed that this was even a point worthy of noting.

Making a noise that no reasonable creature would produce intentionally, the Builder took a breath, indicating that he was about to try thinking before speaking, an activity that he failed at on a constant basis, "Okay then," he wasted air before asking, "Where should I look for cobwebs?"

"It is easier to find cobwebs deeper underground than it is currently safe for you to travel." the fool could easily travel to those depths were he not so averse to crafting himself some basic protection, "you can however find them most anywhere if you would rather waste time seeking them out."

"First you tell me that I need to find cobwebs to build a bed," that petulant tone coming back into his voice, "now you're saying that finding them is wasting my time," he finished, with no obvious point to his words. Waiting for an extension to this statement that would finish the Builder's thought, there was a lengthy pause before he appended, "You know what, it doesn't matter. I'll find some," before turning away and walking off.

Watching as the Builder left headed, it looked, back to the caves where he had almost given himself to the land, he was resigned to the fact that this trip, like the one before, was likely to end in death. The Builder had thus far done everything in his power to make this effort more difficult that it had any reason to be. The signs were all there, this time would likely be the last, and he would _Finally_ be freed... but even that was almost a concern. What would that mean in the end?

It was nothing like the last time. They had been powerful, they had been capable, and they would have succeeded... were it not for their arrogance... _that_ at least was not a fault this Builder possessed. Perhaps it was this, that bothered him so.

Thoughts of the past were always wrought with pain, and as this was one of the few remaining things that could still hurt him, he avoided these thoughts as a matter of course. This did not always work as well as he would have liked... such as now...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit, that I had fun with game mechanics here. ^,^ This is a common complaint in the game, and it's fun to see if reflected in the story.
> 
> Now... I intentionally took a moment "In his Head", so that it was clear to the reader what he does and doesn't remember. Specifically, he doesn't remember the event immediately after the Zombie Attack in any clear way. I wasn't sure if that was coming across clearly before. !


	19. ... Long Gone

Today was the day. They'd spent all week preparing for this, and it was finally time.

"Tam!" he shouted, "Hurry up, she'll be back any moment!"

Tam was still back tending the glowing mushrooms. He was sure that he'd finally figured out how to induce the extreme growth that the mushrooms occasionally underwent, something about ground up bone dust..., and any time you couldn't find him, you knew where to look.

"Just give me a moment!" his friend hollered back out at him.

"If you take any longer, I'm headed out without you!" he yelled back.

From behind him, he heard the sound of one of Tam's unfortunate landings as he came out of his teleport, "Oooph!"

Turning around with a smile, he looked down at the budding wizard, 'Tam, the Soon to be All Powerful' as he liked to be known, "Hey, all of you is above ground this time at least."

"Yeah, yeah..." Tam replied, "Let's just go," he added, picking himself up, and dusting off his new robes.

"You know, if you keep wearing dresses..." ducking as his friend threw a fireball in his direction, he jumped first over, and then mid-jump, down at Tam before he could get off another one. This sent them both rolling across the stone walkway before he felt that tightening in his neck that meant they were about to...

*Splash*

He hit the water before he could orient himself from the _jump_ and Tam was standing off to the side of the underground lake laughing, but he didn't laugh long. Perinque had arrived, and she was almost as bad as Tam for pranks. One moment Tam was standing on the shore, the next he found himself thrown forward by one of their friend's constant companions.

Two jumps were enough for him to reach the bank, and Tam had already teleported himself back out of the water, this time a little further down the bank where he could wring his robes dry in peace.

"You boys done playing yet?" she asked them, while the black slime that was following her today made itself almost invisible against the cavern wall.

"We were..." Tam griped. His new robes weren't constructed of the same waterproof silk that his last robe was. He did his best to keep it dry, and Perinque knew this.

"Let's go then," she said, impatient as ever. She was supposed to be meeting them at the intersection, but it was just like her to come all the way back to the house.

Following her as they headed back to the surface he wondered, not for the fist time, if this was actually a good idea. Watching her walk ahead of them, her shadow seemed to walk beside, and a little behind her, and it took him a few moments to realize that he wasn't seeing things, something strange was going on with her.

"Perinque," he started, "where _did_ you run off to this morning?"

"I just needed to finish putting something together," she skirted his question.

"There's something going on with," he almost felt silly saying it, "your shadow."

"It's not my shadow, it's my clothes," she answered, as if that explained anything.

Looking at the clothing she was wearing, he had a hard time making out the details, and had he not been so distracted, he would have noticed it right off. It was as if the shadows clung to her for a moment as she walked through them, giving her what amounted to a shadow double that moved a moment behind her. He was surprised he had missed it before. How _had_ he missed it before?

"You went to a Demon Altar," Tam chimed in, finally catching up with them. He was wearing his older waterproof robes again.

"So what if I did," she replied, not slowing to talk.

"Wait," he tried to reason though this, "I thought we had all decided the Demon Altars were too dangerous to experiment with, especially with as far into the corruption as you have to go for them," he started berating her.

"I found another one, and it's not _in_ the corruption," she informed him.

"That doesn't change the fact," he tried to start in again.

"Who are you to tell me what is and isn't safe!" she stopped, turning around to shout now. Stepping towards him, thrusting a finger as if it were a knife, she continued, "In case you forgot, it was _you_ that came asking _me_ for help. I'm not about to start dancing around your long list of fears now," she finished.

"I wasn't asking you to dance around anything," he started back at her, his voice starting to rise, "But if we're going to work together on this, we need to be able to trust each other," this time he raised his finger in her direction, though no where near as aggressively, "and _you_ have a bad habit of dragging us all in over our heads when your curiosity gets the best of you!" he shouted back.

They stood there staring each other down for what felt like several minutes until a low, and yet still hearty, chuckle broke out behind them, "Why don't you two just kiss and make out... er up, so that we can get on with this," Tam interjected, in an attempt at breaking the tension.

His face heating up, but refusing to let himself cave in this, he added, "Listen, I'm sorry if you think I worry to much..."

"I don't _think_ you worry too much," she cut in.

"Whatever," he said, "So I worry, but the last time we went out to experiment at the Demon Altar, Tam was almost carried away..."

"Hey!" Tam interjected, "I was just caught off guard, I would have gotten away!"

"Tam was almost carried away," he went on as if he hadn't been interrupted, "and you were badly injured."

"And _you_ were killed," she shot at him with a dark look, "Which might not seem like a big deal to you, but besides the fact that we then have to bring you back to your stuff, we never know if _this time_ maybe you won't be coming back at all."

He hadn't told them about the voices he'd heard the last time he'd fallen... and now was not the best time to bring that up, "Which only aides in making my point. It's dangerous to go experimenting with the Demon Altars," he said instead.

"Whatever," she huffed back, "Like _I_ said, I found one outside of the corruption, so let's just head back topside and get this over with."

They continued towards the surface, Perinque taking the lead, he and Tam following not too far behind, and he double checked his bags to make sure he had remembered everything. _Sword, Potions, Bow, Armor, may as well put that on,_ between one step and the next, he _put_ his armor on over his clothing. Reaching into his side pouch, he confirmed that he'd brought the right arrows as well.

It wasn't the fact that she'd messed around with the Demon Altar that really bothered him. She was right, he had no place telling her what risks she could and could not take. No, he was more bothered by the thought that she was taking these trips alone, more and more often.

Ever since their last trip to the Corruption, she'd been making these solo trips. It's not like she hadn't been alone in the past, long before he'd ever woken up in this strange land... but now it was different. Ever since they'd learned to trust each other... and that hadn't come easily... they'd pretty much taken all their real risks together. He'd assumed that it would continue on like that... but _something_ had changed...

If he was honest with himself, he was concerned that she was pulling away, and he didn't know why. Tam hadn't seemed to notice, and talking to him didn't do any good. " _She's just riled up about something. She'll calm down,"_ he had responded. But it seemed to be more than that.

"Hey man," Tam said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "what's the matter? I thought you didn't mind getting wet," he said, completely oblivious... which wasn't a surprise.

Smiling at his friend's attempt, he responded, "It's not that..." looking forward towards Perinque 'significantly', he responded in almost a whisper, "I'm worried that she's pulling away."

"I told you man," Tam started too loudly for his liking.

"I know, I know," he cut in making a 'shushing' gesture and checking to make sure she wasn't slowing down, speaking low again, "But it's just... she didn't used to be so secretive. And now it's almost like pulling teeth to figure out what she's been up to."

Finally taking the hint, but still talking a little louder that he preferred, Tam replied, "So she's antsy and she wants some alone time. What's the big deal?"

He knew his friend wouldn't understand, so he just ended it with, "I guess I'm just worrying again..."

"Yeah she's right there at least, you're pretty bad about that man," Tam informed him with a smile.

Shaking his head, he decided that he'd worry about this later. Right now, he should have been preparing himself for what they were about to do. Reaching into his pouch, he pulled out the Suspicious Looking Eye. They'd found it in a chest quite a while ago, and he _knew_ that it would call something to them. With it's similarities to the Demon Eyes, he didn't know if this _something_ would be friendly... and they all assumed it wouldn't be. So for the last week they'd been brewing potions, some of which only Tam was confident did anything, gathering supplies to improve their weapons, and just getting ready for whatever showed up.

Stopping short for a moment, he realized that Perinque was waiting for them at the Intersection. Standing near the signs they'd made, that they didn't really need anymore, signs pointing out which torch lined direction took them above, led back to the house, and which directions led 'Further Down'... a direction they'd left largely unexplored thus far. It was surprisingly cavernous below, and that made it more difficult to go wandering around as gallivantly as they typically did without getting hopelessly lost.

Stopping when they caught up to her, he just waited for her to continue, or say something. She looked at them, or more accurately, through them, as she seemed to be thinking about something... which was always a good sign of trouble to come.

"Ahem," Tam tried to get her attention, but she was too far gone and paid him no mind. The black slime that had up to this point been slinking along the wall, came up to her and seemed to be shaking near her as if it were concerned about something as well.

"What do you think?" Tam turned, asking him.

"I don't know," he answered with a shrug, but there was something... a sound, he could almost hear...

Perinque was fast on a normal day, but he wasn't sure whether it was just his mind playing tricks on him thanks to whatever it was she had going on with her clothing, or is she had found a new accessory that enhanced her speed even further, but whatever it was, she went from standing there staring into space, to spear out turned around thrusting, as fast as even he could ever hope to do. It all seemed of one motion, and it almost looked like she just melted into her new position as her spear sprung into existence, not a trick she, unlike him, was capable of.

The inspiration for her action was immediately apparent as a Giant Worm erupted from the ground mere steps before her. She caught it perfectly in the mouth, before twisting the spear and swinging the worm towards them. Not particularly slow himself, he'd already pulled his sword out and neatly sliced the length of the worm as Tam fed it a fireball. It took advantage of the momentum it still had remaining and dislodged its jaw to begin borrowing back into the ground. Not quickly enough however, as Perinque already had her Shurikens in hand, and one lodged into its body right at the point at which it was escaping into the ground, was enough to stop the creatures escape.

Walking over to the portion of its body that was still above ground, Perinque retrieved her shuriken before grabbing the worm's remains and forcibly pulling it back out of the dirt, before reaching into its jaw for the coins that these things tended to pick up in their burrowing. She knew that he would have had an easier time of it, but refused to give up on her ways. Pocketing the Copper, he noticed that she was carrying a particularly over stuffed coin pouch.

"You know, I can lighten..." he tried, but stopped when she shot him a look that was at least as sharp as the point of her spear, before turning away from him to check on the slime that was still shaking on the spot. He knew she was probably upset at having killed the worm, and left her be.

Tam performed a little bit of magic that caused the carcass to rot into the earth as if it had never been. A lot of his magic seemed to deal with the earth, and different ways of manipulating the various elements. Even this was more about _"The Earth Consuming the Remains,"_ and less about him doing anything to the body... or so he'd explained it many times in the past.

"Why do you still do that one anyway?" he asked.

"I figure the best way to get better is practicing every time I get the chance," Tam told him, "Even if it's not always the _most_ useful magic."

It was funny, where he just naturally had an occasional sense of things, Tam had a natural _feel_ of things. He could feel the power of the earth, and the plants, and the occasional creature. Where he could figure out how to put things together in such a way to make new things, and he had the power to manipulate and build the terrain up as he chose, Tam could change the flow of magic in the earth, and call forth the elements almost at will. It used to wear his friend out to even do things like this, but now he could call fireballs on demand, and it took a few of them before he had to slow down.

Perinque was different. She had a way with the living creatures of Terraria. She could walk along unarmed over most of the land during the day, and she would generally be okay. It was only when she was with them, around the undead, or around the corruption that she was 'at risk'. The slimes had taken to her immediately however, and she had not once been attacked by a slime. He and Tam knew better than to ever consider combating them while she was around, not that they would attack them with her nearby.

He had learned, entirely by accident, that he was incapable of dying. Not too long after waking up in this strange place, with no idea how he's gotten here, he had been swarmed by a group of Demon Eyes and Zombies. This was still a nightmare that he had to this day, but after his body was mangled, he found himself waking back up where he'd originally awoken... certainly not something he would have ever considered possible. Add to that the fact that he could recover from even serious injury by sleeping it off, and his next few weeks went by in a blur of fighting, losing, exploring, building, gathering, learning to craft, and generally just making a mess of things.

Eventually, he ran into Perinque while tearing his way through the caves below the little hut he'd built himself and immediately almost ruined any chance he had of ever befriending her when he charged in to attack the slimes that he thought were swarming her. He was lucky he hadn't actually killed any of them, as she told him later she would have returned the favor, which would have made it even harder for her to trust him when he would have turned back up as healthy as ever shortly thereafter.

Killing a slime would have been difficult to do in any account with her spear in his leg, as he hadn't gotten around to making himself any armor at that point. It still took her several weeks of running into him randomly while he begged her to forgive him as she was the first person he'd seen. Besides that, she looked like she knew what she was about, even then. She finally relented when the last time he'd found her to beg her forgiveness, the slimes she was with decided to forcibly remove him, and he refused to fight back. She stopped them... barely in time, and ever since then, they'd gotten along rather well.

Tam almost didn't end up joining them. More... he almost got himself killed when they found him. When Perinque and he first tried venturing further down into the caverns together, they ended up stumbling across a gathering of skeletons. It was an incredibly close call, and they barely made it out alive. In fact, if it hadn't been for the timely intervention of the bats and a few Mother Slimes that were also nearby... they may not have. Perinque didn't have the ability to recover from her injuries like he did and would likely not have come back had she fallen.

While they were escaping still terrified for their lives, or really, for her life, they heard a scream from behind them. He urged her to ignore it, as it was probably some kind of trap by the undead, and she was in no condition to be fighting... but she stubbornly turned back to investigate. They found Tam hiding on a ledge, fighting off the bats and dangerously close to the combat finishing up beneath him. There was nothing for it but to charge in and help the slimes finish off the Skeletons, and unfortunately the bats as well as they were unrelenting in their assault.

Tam was in pretty bad shape, and it was then that he taught them about potions. He'd run out, but promised that if they helped him back to his structure, he'd teach them how to make them as well. When they finally made it back to where their soon to be new friend called home, it was obvious that Tam could no more shape the earth than fight, and he immediately went to work fixing the place up as Tam rested to recover. Even with a potion he still needed time to mend.

It wasn't too long after, that they all started travelling together. The house that he built from Tam's hidey hole was far enough below the surface that they didn't have to worry about the zombies and demon eyes, that for some reason didn't travel this far below ground, and close enough to the surface that they hadn't run into any skeletons, like they found in the caverns below. The slimes that _were_ everywhere eventually stopped bothering them once they realized that Perinque was there most of the time, and things settled into a routine of exploring, experimenting, and otherwise just getting by in this strange world. And then of course, they found the Suspicious Looking Eye.

They finally continued their way back to the surface, where Perinique had to say goodbye to the Black Slime, as it would not come out of the caves. Once out there, they found an open space to utilize the Eye, so that no matter what it called, they'd hopefully see it coming.

He had Tam to thank for almost everything he knew about the Magic of this World. His friend intuitively understood Magic the same way he intuitively understood that putting enough wood together in a certain shape would give him a chair, assuming he was standing next to that strange workbench that he'd been compelled to build first.

In fact, it had been Tam that discovered a way to utilize the Magic of the chests they'd been finding to create Belt Pouches that would weightlessly hold an incredible amount of things, that by all means should not have fit in them, before filling up. This considerably improved their ability to explore and gather things from further and further out, in far larger quantities than they'd have ever managed on their own. Unfortunately, Perinque stubbornly refused to wear them. She wouldn't relent and insisted on carrying all her gear naturally, and on her person. That's not to say that she had any objection to letting Tam and him carry things for the group... just not for her.

It was also Tam that had taught him how to _detect_ and _use_ a magical artifact, which this Eye definitely was. It was somewhat similar to the intuitions he had, and he wondered if over time Tam could learn to do the things he could. But Tam took it to a whole new level. He talked about this extra outer "Shell" that he could feel and manipulate at will. It was through this "Shell" that he was able to form the Fireballs, or by moving this "Shell" and then pulling himself to it, he had learned to Teleport... though that was more recent, and was definitely a work in progress. But in focusing his attention on the Eye, he was able to _feel_ that it was capable of calling something to it if he focused on it enough, and after they had all prepared for the worst, a preparation that involved, at Tam's insistence, drinking a few potions each, he did just that.

Nothing happened. Shielding his eyes from the sun, he looked towards the skies to see if perhaps whatever it was, was coming from the sky.

"Perhaps..." Tam began, "We need to use it at night. If it is related in some way to the demon eyes... that would make sense."

"Sounds reasonable enough," he agreed with Tam, and decided to settle down for the day. Lying on a large rock in the sunlight, he removed his armor and stretched out to enjoy the sun. It had been a while since they'd last come topside in the daylight.

"Well, while you boys relax I'm going to see how the slimes are doing over the hill," Perinque informed them, "I'll be back," she said as she started jogging that way.

"Actually," Tam chimed in, "I'm going to see if I can find some more Mushrooms, Dayblooms, and maybe some Waterleaf if I've still got the time."

"Sure," he answered, "want any help?"

"No, I've got it. Enjoy the sun," Tam responded as he teleported off.

Lying there stretched out, eyes closed, and just soaking up the sun, he had no idea that this was the last of his happy days.


	20. Web Crawling

He headed back past the structure and up the hill towards the caves he'd started exploring before. He wasn't about to go too much deeper... but perhaps if he was careful... He felt a little more reckless than he liked, and he wasn't sure of the reason. Thinking about it as he walked, he realized that regardless of what he'd told Guile... he really did want someone else here, and he hated himself for considering it.

Avoiding the slimes on his way to the other side of the hill where the land began breaking apart, he decided to build himself a small bridge over to the floating land mass with a tree growing out of it. Pulling a piece of wood out, he considered it for a moment. He _knew_ that he could affix the wood in two completely different fashions. In one way, he would be able to flatten the wood, similar to a panel, but thicker, and... _sturdier_... like he'd already done when climbing a tree. Outside of that, he could just fasten the wood as is, and it would be thicker, and beam-like.

Considering it further, he realized that there were only so many things he _knew_ he could do with the wood. He could use it to build another workbench, he could use it along with gel to put together more torches, he could create these... sturdy wood shelves, or he could just use it 'as is' to create a framework. Try as he might, he had no idea how he could _arrange_ the wood to build a sword, or even a chair... though he'd done it already. This only further confirmed the fact that the workbench had some kind of a strange influence on him when he was near it.

As he'd used these wooden shelves previously to climb a tree, he decided that he wanted to try using them to build a bridge. The last time he'd done this, he'd unknowingly changed the wood and then immediately set it in place. This time he was aware of the change as he pulled the wood out to use as his bridge. Two shelves wide, and about a dozen pieces long, was all it took to get him over to the suspended dirt. He did notice that the pieces he fastened to to the dirt not only seemed to affix themselves as if they'd been built there long ago, but they actually split and fastened both straight out, and with another arm for support on the underside.

The finished product was impressively bridge like, and stepping from it to the 'island', he was almost surprised by how... 'normal' it felt to stand on the floating dirt. He wasn't sure what he'd expected... perhaps for it to bob when he walked out on it... or for it to feel like it was less solid beneath his feet... but standing on the small island was no different than standing on the other side of the bridge. He even jumped around a little, which got his heart sped up, but had no other effect.

Carefully walking over to the far edge of the little land mass, he peered over the edge, a little more nervous than he liked. The drop from that side was rather substantial, as the land mass went out further than the ledge below and was suspended over the lower portion of this broken valley. He could see a few slimes meandering about below him, as if they'd come here and weren't sure where to go next.

Heading back across the bridge, his impulse satisfied, he climbed back down to the lower area and this time didn't crawl down into the crevice he'd been down twice now. Looking further out, he saw an opening at the back of another substantial overhang. At least, it got rather dark in that direction, and could have been a cave. Dispatching of the wandering slimes... _At least they're not lost anymore..._ he thought rather darkly.

Reaching the overhang, he came across another pot sitting off to the side. Breaking it open, he found a few sharp cross shaped objects. Sharp enough looking that he was careful just picking them up. He assumed that they were probably intended to be thrown... but he wasn't so sure he could do that without slicing himself up. Putting them into his pouches, he decided to worry about figuring them out later.

Pulling a torch out as he reached the back of the overhang, he did in fact discover a cave leading in. Taking a deep breath before entering, he was more nervous than he liked. This cave, unlike the one before, was thankfully rather broad and tall. That made it a little easier. It was also not too deep, which he was fine with... except for the fact that it didn't have any of the Cobwebs that Guile told him he needed.

Thinking back on the list of supplies that Guile had snarked back him before he left, he recalled that he also needed a sum of stone... of which he currently had... reaching into his pouches to check... one chunk. There was a small section of the path into the shallow cave that was mostly stone, and he walked back to it. Pulling his pickaxe out, he struck the stone, and got the expected reverberation that let him know it was working.

Getting to work gathering the stone, he could _feel_ that not only didn't the stone go down too far... but there was quite a bit of empty space below it. Frowning, he continued to work at the stone, and only two layers in he broke through to what looked like another passage, as small as the one he'd walked down before. Gathering all the attached stone, which only ended up amounting to an additional 16 chunks, he examined the opening he'd now made in the middle of the path.

The hole opened into the ceiling of another path heading further down from where he was that went out in two directions. Placing a torch in the side of the opening itself, so that he'd be able to see it from either end, he listened for any noises. Hearing nothing beyond the soft sound of the torch, he carefully lowered himself down to the new path.

Immediately pulling another torch out, he quickly took in his surroundings to make sure that he 'was' in fact alone. The tunnel wasn't particularly interesting to look at, but it also didn't go very far in either direction before dropping rather significantly.Choosing a direction, he walked over to where it dropped off.

He couldn't see too far below him... but there was something strange about the way the light hit what he could see... The color was different. Lying on the ground, he reached his arm down as low as it would go, and tried to _attach_ the torch as low as he could, and it was immediately apparent what was different.

The ground at the bottom was covered in sand. Not just the bottom either, but also the walls. He didn't need sand to build his bed though... and while Guile had said something about needing it to make bottles, he was on a mission. He made a mental note to remember that the sand was here and went to look down the other drop in the path.

This looked more promising, at least, in the sense that it may actually lead somewhere further on. It also widened up, even as it plummeted down. He could just barely make out that there 'might' be a bottom, even after _affixing_ the torch as low as he could reach it to a wall that also seemed made of sand. In trying to figure out how he'd get down there safely, he heard a *fTchsh* from above that meant another slime had found its way over. _What is it about this valley that attracts them?_ he thought to himself.

Keeping an ear to it, he pulled a piece of wood out as a shelf, and _fastened_ it a little away from but as low as the torch he'd set there. Putting another few pieces to widen it enough to climb down comfortably to, he did the same trick, torch and shelf, to get down to where he could safely lower himself down to the bottom and see clearly enough. Something caught his eye above him when he pulled another torch out to walk with, and he got his first glimpse of the cobwebs... or at least he assumed that's what the sticky looking stringy mess, that he could 'just' see as it hooked and bobbed across the ceiling, was.

"Well..." he said aloud, "That's just great," as he looked at how high the ceiling was here. And he'd been glad only moments before that it wasn't as claustrophobic as he'd initially thought. He wasn't even sure how he was supposed to gather that mess in a way that he could use it. _Maybe a rake?_ he thought, though without being near either Guile or the workbench, he wasn't even sure he could make something like that.

Looking around at the base of the drop he'd just climbed down, saw that this area was roundish, and opposite the drop, there was a point where the ceiling kept going up... which could have been a continuation of this passageway. None of that gave him any insight as to how he was going to get the cobwebs down. Reaching into his pouches to try and come up with something gave him a questionably good idea.

First _placing_ a torch in the center of the room, he was pleased to note that it fastened there just as nicely as it did the walls. Pulling the sharp metal crosses that he'd just found from the pouches, he moved to the edge of the room and tried to figure out how to throw them safely. Realizing that, like his sword, they probably required him to " _Let them work for him_ ," as Guile would probably say, he imagined throwing the thing in a clean arc that would pass through the cobwebs and land on the other side and tossed one of them into the air, trying not to cut himself with it as he did so.

It worked... or at least he thought it did, better than he had hoped. As the bladed cross passed through the cobwebs, they _snapped_ down on themselves, separating from the rest, and the ceiling, and fell down in small messy patches of webbing. Walking over to where they had fallen, he picked one up, and the rest went into his pouches as close as he stood to them.

The webbing had a very similar elasticity to the gel, and reminded him lightly of the the dirt as well. He wasn't really sure what the magic of the world did when he chose to take things from it... but it was obviously all of the same effect. Toying with the web for a moment, he was amused by the stickiness that didn't leave a residue. Just to see, he rubbed it around in the sand at the wall and after pulling it away, was actually a little surprised that none of the sand came with it.

*fTchsh* the sound of the slime he'd heard earlier... though... *Shlorp* backing away from the wall he'd come down before pulling his sword out, he wasn't sure why the sound had been 'off' when it landed above. *Plop* Watching the ledge he'd come down intently, he was not at all prepared for the impact on the back of his head, slamming him face first into the dirt with considerable force, and causing him to almost impale himself on the wooden sword.

The resounding boom of its jump when it sprung off his skull rattled him, but he knew where this would go, and he scrambled off to the side, forcing himself to move even though he was having an issue locating the floor. With this mostly unsuccessful scramble, he was at the least able to keep the slime from landing on his skull again, and though it did manage to latch onto his back before slamming him to the floor once more, at least his head wasn't ringing with the second blow.

Rolling over, sword up, he was able to deflect it's next jump with his blade. Trying to get to his feet, he didn't have enough time for 'that' even before the slime was leaping back at him. _This thing's faster than the others!_ he managed to think, which he felt was a good sign that his head was clearing up, but this didn't help him back to his feet. Over and over the slime lept at him, and it was all he could do to deflect it with his sword. Getting up was out of the question, but thankfully, the force of it's jump seemed to add to the distance it bounced after he hit it with the sword, which was likely the only reason it hadn't managed to get though.

In what seemed a particularly long period of defending himself against the unrelenting assault of the slime, he eventually scored a blow that tore through it's red membrane thus ending the attack. Allowing the gel and coins to go into his pouches, he wondered at why, not only had it attacked him outright, but why it didn't cease it's assault when it was obviously not succeeding. This only lent credence to Guile's statement that the slimes were merely byproducts of the world's magic, and not truly sentient creatures.

Pulling himself up now that his head had cleared up for the most part, he reached into his pouch to check the gel that had just been collected. It was interesting, even though the slimes were all different colors, the gel was always the same. He wondered at that. This indicated a single source for all the slimes, which again, only further removed their consciousness as something he was concerned about.

He realized that he'd been spending quite a bit of time thinking about the slimes... and he wondered at that as well. Was this because he felt so alone that he was trying to find some kind of kinship in them? Was he disappointed that they didn't seem to be more than autonomous gelatinous by-products? What would it change if they did seem to think? He spent longer standing there staring at the gel than he would have preferred, and still had no answer.

Coming back to himself, he looked around as if seeing this place for the first time, and he wasn't sure what he was doing down here. Crawling through caves, looking for cobwebs, fighting slimes and who knows what else... All for what? A bed? And then what? He'd spruce up his little cave and live out the rest of his life in this strange place letting Guile do to him as he wished? He hated the fact that he 'knew' how he could possibly get some help... but he didn't 'know' if he would be forcing someone else to share his fate. Maybe that's what Guile did to him?

Shrugging the thoughts off, he decided to continue on before he spent too much more time worrying over things that 'at the moment' weren't important. Moving to the side of the rounded cave opposite of where he'd come in, he looked up into the darkness. Reaching up with the torch, he _fastened_ it as high as he could get it to reach, and he could just barely make out what looked like a ledge. Pulling out some wood, he built himself a ledge he could climb up on, and then another, which put him almost in reach of the ledge.

He built a final platform and pulled himself up to the new ledge. Looking down at the darkness below, he suddenly realized that there was no way for him to keep track of what time it was. On his way back, he could run right into another pack of zombies... and he wouldn't know it was that late, until it was too late. His heart jumped a couple of beats. 'How' long 'had' he been out here...

Pulling a torch out to look around he realized that this area was a long rugged tunnel that sloped noticeably upward... it was almost, but not quite, as if had at one time been a long staircase... made of dirt and stone. Looking around for any indication that this was more than just a natural formation, he was disappointed by the lack of any other sign. It was wide enough that at least six people could have walked up it side by side without touching at the shoulders.

With no other way to go than up, he started climbing the natural staircase. _Maybe..._ he thought to himself, _maybe it wouldn't force someone to come... maybe it just invites them somehow..._ he tried fooling himself.

The dirt staircase went up quite a ways before it leveled off. There wasn't that much to see on the way up, and he placed a torch in the center of the path two times before he reached the top. Once the path had leveled off, he noticed that above him, and just beyond the torchlight, it almost looked like the path continued up. Walking forward, he noticed that it also went forward, level for a ways, before dropping straight down into the darkness once more. Neither direction gave any clue as to what he'd find further on.

At this point though, he felt that he'd gone quite far enough and decided that he'd come back to explore the rest of this path the next day. Setting a torch in the center of the level top, he returned down the natural stairs. Halfway down, he heard the sound of a slime coming up. Stopping near to the second torch he set down before, he pulled the sword out and waited.

Another red slime came up the path, and prepared, he made relatively short work of it. It seemed to take qute a bit more abuse than the slimes he'd encountered before, and it was a bit quicker, maybe a little bigger, but it wasn't too bad on it's own. Continuing on down afterwards, he made it back to the roundish room, up through the hole in the floor, and out of the short tunnel he'd come down without any further distractions.

Once more above ground, there were a few slimes wandering aimlessly about that he made short work of... and then he headed back towards his cave in the rapidly fading light. He had momentarily considered going back to the structure, but there would not be enough time for him to deal with Guile's crazy and still make it back if he did. Besides, he considered, after having spent a night as he wished, there was no reason to go back under Guile's nose.

Sealing the wooden beams behind him when he walked into his cave, he looked around at the dirt room anew. _Even if... I'm 'not' trying to bring someone here... there's no reason I 'can't' make this place 'habitable'..._ he thought to himself. And looking around, he _knew_ that it wasn't.

Pulling his pickaxe out, the first thing he did was to square off the cave a bit so that it resembled the structure more. Removing some dirt and stone, he also dug a little further into the hill, so that it wasn't quite so small. As night was coming anyway, he decided that this was a safe enough way for him to spend his time, and as he could _tell_ that the dirt was plenty thick around him as he worked, he even opened it up a little larger than he'd built the structure.

That done, he wondered at paneling the walls... but in checking his pouches, he realized that he might not have enough panels to cover all of it, nor did he have enough wood to make more once he ran out. Besides that, the workbench he'd need to use was at the structure, and he didn't have the time, or the interest to go over for it. Deciding that he'd rather get as far as he could with what he had, he pulled out the panels and started with the wooden frame at the entrance to the cave.

As he finished the frame at the cave entrance, he was struck by how dark it was and set a torch down in the center of the space. Not liking having _no_ visibility outside, he pulled a small section of paneling out near where he was going to put the door on each side to give himself windows. Counting the panels he had left, he decided to cover the floor next, and finished only a few rows from the door before running out. Considering what to work on next, he decided that for the time being, he might as well turn in, and perhaps get an earlier start the next day.

Pulling a few bundles of dirt out to sleep on, and then remembering that he had to leave his pouches by the door for this to work, he did so, and prepared for the night, earlier than he thought he'd ever turned in. _Tomorrow... I'll find enough of those cobwebs to build a_ real _bed... and after that..._ Trying to find a comfortable patch of dirt, he wasn't sure what _after that_ would entail. He was never sure what _after that_ would entail, and it was beginning to wear on him. _I wake up, I gather things, I may or may not almost die, I may or may not be tortured by Guile... is that really it?_ He knew where he was going with the train of thought, and turning over he resisted. _I don't_ know _that I would be forcing someone here... and it's not like I'd be dragging them myself... I'd just have to gather the Silver..._ Rolling over again, he tried to get his mind if not to sleep, at least on to other things.

_Where_ did _I come from?_ That thought stuck with him. The first thing he remembered was waking up with Guile standing over him. There had to have been _something_ before that... but try as he might, he couldn't remember anything about _before_. _So now I just need worry about where to go from here..._ He drifted to sleep eventually...

The next day went by in much the same manner, and outside of passing him at a distance and hurrying along, he didn't interact with Guile once. He spent the time gathering more supplies. He managed to find more cobwebs just a little further on down the cavern, though not nearly as much as he needed, along with another healing potion and a few arrows. Back on the surface he cleared the area around his cave of trees, so that he'd have more wood... and so that he'd see anything coming before it was right at his door, picking up a few more mushrooms as he did this. As the evening came he went into his cave to relax, and fought hard to keep his thoughts from drifting onto subjects he wanted no part in.


	21. A Change is Begun

Waking the next morning, he knew he needed to go to Guile's hut. He vaguely recalled that this whole building process was composed of several stages... and he wasn't sure where to start. On top of that, without the workbench he didn't think he could start towards building it in any case. Pulling a piece of wood out, he tried to envision a bed, but nothing was coming to him... He _did_ however know how to put together another workbench, so he tried that. Sitting on the floor, he pulled the wood out as he needed it, and much like the first time... that seemed so long ago now... the bench seemed to come together almost on it's own, with him just providing the momentum for the wood.

Looking down at the new workbench, he felt that there was something different about it and after a few moments, he realized what it was. The strange tree _etched_ into the top of the first one wasn't present on _this_ workbench. He could still _feel_ the _thrumm_ though, so he wasn't sure what that meant. Pulling some wood out to make into paneling for the walls, it worked just the same, and he decided not to let it concern him. Gauging how many panels he would need to completely finish the rest of the cave was impossible. He had noticed that each piece of wood flattened out into four panels, so pulling a _stack_ of 25 pieces and pressing them into the workbench he could feel the stack rapidly converting from wood to panel, eventually ending up as a _stack_ of 100 panels.

From there, he attempted to finish paneling the cave, but was unable to continue beyond right in front of the entrance, and even then, it was varied how far he could get, ceiling, walls and floor. Frowning at the places where panels refused to fasten, he used the hammer to pull up a few that he'd already put down to compare the area behind them. The dirt looked... different behind the panels where he could fasten them, than it did where he could not. It was as if the earth were more _dense_ in those places. He also realized that he'd just begun putting the panels on the dirt the night before in his tired state, and that today he'd just been continuing that, without building a wooden frame.

He considered taking up the dirt and just building a frame, as that's what he'd done before... but now he was curious. Pulling up the dirt in a space that he could place a panel on, and where he couldn't, he _fastened_ them both back, and realized that it changed nothing for either location. Looking once more at the two locations, the only thing he could see was in fact the density. Where the dirt was more compact, and smoothed out, he could place tiles. Where it looked like it had just settled where it was, he could not.

On impulse, he pulled his hammer out and struck the settled dirt, receiving the now familiar ripple. Two more strikes, and as he suspected, the dirt went from _settled_ to _compact_. After that, he could put a panel down without a problem. More pleased with himself than he probably should have been at figuring that out on his own, he went to work smoothing out the rest of the dirt in the small cave. With that done, he was able to finish paneling it without any further problems. It took the majority of his remaining wood, but at last his cave was homey... or at least... homier.

With that done, he wasn't sure what to start on next. Testing a theory, he pulled out a piece of wood out and tried to imagine all the things he could build with it now that he was near the workbench. He right off _knew_ that he could use the wood with some stone to make more arrows like the ones he'd found in the pots. _Beyond_ that was a larger torch, if he used one of the smaller torches, the wood panels of course, a door, which reminded him to finally construct one and install it in the frame at the entrance... A chair, something that looked like a sign perhaps, a real sized table, a sword, a hammer, a... bow? Keeping that in mind he tried to figure out anything else that would help him put together his bed... but that was it with the wood. Strangely enough though, even with him thinking about what he could build with the wood specifically, he _knew_ there was more he could build using things that were still in his pouches.

For example, he could make dirt or stone... panels? Pulling a chunk of each out, he pushed them into the workbench to see what this would look like, and indeed they compressed into panels not too different from the wooden panels, only composed of dirt and stone respectively. Putting those away, he continued to imagine what he could build... he could put a torch with a few arrows to create burning arrows, he could of course make more torches, and he realized that there was a distinct difference between the wood he used to make his bridge, or to climb with, and that he used to panel the walls, and finally, he _knew_ that he could take a silver coin, and _change_ it into 100 copper coins... though why he'd want to do that was beyond him.

Snapping his focus back to where he was, his head swam a moment when he realized what he'd been doing and he had to put a hand to the workbench to steady himself, though the thing's _thrumming_ didn't really help matters. He couldn't _really_ put words to it. He kind of let his focus... _drift_ a little, while trying to picture what he could build with what he had, and it allowed him to _see_ these things in his mind... it was almost like _looking_ into his pouches... but different enough to have needed him to _focus_ on it before he was able to do it.

He wondered for a moment on what else he could do if he _focused_ right... but had no idea where to begin figuring it out. _Guile would know..._ he thought bitterly to himself. He'd figured out so much on his own, that it was frustrating to realize everything about his time here would wind up leading back to Guile. While he was thinking on it though, he recalled _knowing_ that this place wasn't _habitable_... and as he focused on it, somehow... he knew _why_. The how wasn't important to him, but he was a little unsettled by knowing the _why_. It was almost as if a little voice in his head told him, _This housing is missing a chair_.

Standing next to the workbench, he pulled one together and set it up against the back wall to see what would happen. Focusing on the structure again, he _knew_ that 'now' it was _suitable_ , And even though he had done all of this intentionally, that very obvious shift in his _knowledge_ that came from just building a chair still hit his gut in an uncomfortable way.

Looking around, seeing all together what he'd managed on his own, he lost his small sense of accomplishment rather quickly. A mid sized, wood paneled room, housing a workbench, a chair, and a torch in the wall. Oh, and it had a door. As proud as he'd just been, he realized how much of the day it had taken to get this far on his own, which inevitably brought him back to... _Damn him_.

Stepping out, he noticed that the sun was over halfway across the sky, and decided to pay his _guide_ a visit after all. _At least,_ he tried consoling himself on the way, _at least I don't_ have _to interact with him any more than I_ want _to... that's something._ Not that it did too much to bolster his sudden flaccid spirits. He decided to avoid the slimes instead of engaging them on his way, as his mood was taking a sour turn already. Coming up to the small shack after what was certainly far too short a distance... _I should have chosen a spot further away_ , he wasn't surprised not to find Guile within. _Of course, any time I_ want _to find him, he's nowhere to be seen._

"Looking for someone?"

He hated himself for jumping, as this was Par for the course when it came to Guile, but he quickly tensed up and without turning snapped, "What do I need to build first in the chain of things I need before I can build a bed?"

"No hello? It has been days since last we talked, and now you just come barging into my little home demanding answers?" Guile asked him in a clearly mocking tone.

Taking a deep breath before replying, and avoiding the obvious fact that it was _he_ that had built _Guile's_ little home, he turned, a forced rictus on his face, and curtly responded, "Hi Guile. How have you been doing? Tortured anyone for fun lately? What about that sun, ain't it bright?"

"It is a beautiful day, and I have been doing great. I mean... as great as one could expect with nothing more comfortable than a chair to relax on in his home, but beyond that, peachy. I try not to make it a habit to mix work and pleasure, but _if you insist..._ " those last few words carried an undercurrent that sent a chill through him, washing the insolence he felt right out as he took a step back, towards the structure unfortunately, and tried to keep from freaking out.

"No, it's okay," he stammered, "I'm just not in the best of spirits," he added, hating that fear that was creeping up in him, "I was just coming to ask for your guidance."

A smirk that was anything but friendly still played at the corner of Guile's lips but after a moment, he responded, "The workbench was the _first_ item you needed to build. With that, you can now craft a furnace, assuming you've gathered the necessary components to begin."

Releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding, his every muscle still taut, he replied, "And what do I need for that?"

"Twenty stone blocks, four pieces of wood, and three torches."

Counting the items in his pouches, he realized that he did indeed have more than enough, and yet... "I have no idea how to put it to... oh wait..." he snapped out at the end. Turning, he went into the structure to stand near the workbench, and sure enough, he knew what to do.

Pulling the stack of stone out, he began setting them into place on the floor beside the bench. Each piece took shape as a part of what would be a rather large, round, stone oven. After forming the rounded base, he pressed the remaining stone into the sides, and domed top, open on one side, that came almost as tall as he was. The wood he simply tossed into it, followed by the torches, and when the last item came in contact with the rest, the entire thing _seemed_ to solidify in front of him, and the strange dancing light from the torches engulfed the wood within, creating an alarmingly hot fire, considering the lack of heat from the torches that started it.

Stepping back from the oven he looked it over and noticed that right at the top, above the opening, that same symbol was _etched_ into the stone. Grabbing the workbench, he dragged it away from the furnace so that it would not ignite from the heat that thing was emitting, and noticed as he did that there was an entirely different _thrumm_ coming from the furnace, and while standing with both the bench and the oven near each other, he could feel the different sensations reverberating through him in an unpleasant fashion. Attempting to shake the sensation off, he was barely able to move far enough away to stop feeling the both of them by standing almost against the wall.

"It is more practical to leave the workbench near to the furnace," Guile informed him from the doorway.

"I like it over here more," he replied, "Besides, I don't want it to get too hot."

"That is an unnecessary concern. But perhaps you should move the furnace out from the center of the room if you are concerned about the heat."

Looking at the huge stone oven, he seriously doubted that he could just up and move it, but maybe with his pouches... Walking up to it, he imagined it going into his pouch. When that didn't work, he walked up to it, and squatting down on the backside, as the front was emitting serious heat, he tried lifting it, to no avail. After that he attempted to get a hold of the lip on the front to pull it towards his pouch, and only succeeded in burning his hand.

As he blew on his now tender hand, he was agitated by Guile's chuckling, "I'm glad you're so amused, but as you can see, it's a little too large for me to just pick it up and move it around," he snapped.

"All I can see is that you apparently do not understand the consequences of sticking your hand into the opening of a furnace," his _guide_ responded.

"I was trying to get it to move, what am I supposed to do, break it apart with the pickaxe and rebuild it?" he asked, pulling his pickaxe out even as he finished saying it.

"If you enjoy wasting quite a bit of time and energy, you could potentially get that to work."

"Then, _what_ may I ask, am I _supposed_ to do?" he shot back, clipping the ends of his words.

"I _suppose_ you could simply use the hammer to remove the furnace from its position, at which point it would be easier to move," Guile answered him, as usual ignoring his ire.

"Yes, because the first thing I think of when moving a huge stone oven is to whip out my hammer and hit it," he muttered back.

"Then why didn't you?" Guile asked, a small smirk barely visible on his lips.

"Bwrrrarrrgggg!" he yelled, pulling his hammer out and laying in to the oven with it. He knew he was doing it wrong, and that as a result it wouldn't actually work, but he didn't care for the moment.

Every blow felt good in a way that was both unproductive, and probably unhealthy. Add to that the fact that neither hammer nor oven seemed to be showing the effect of his strikes, and it only made him angrier.

"I assume you realize that you are, in fact, doing that wrong," Guile interrupted his unproductive rage.

"Really?!" he shouted back, each word punctuating a blow that had he his way would have been aimed at Guile, "Really!? I, had, no, clue!" he finished before throwing his hammer across the room with a roar.

The hammer rebounded off the wall leaving, he noticed, a small indentation in the wood, and then lay floating right above the workbench. Bringing his hands to his head, he just wanted to be done, done with Guile, done with this place, just done. All the fear and frustration he'd been holding at bay hadn't really gone anywhere, and he was no closer to having control of his life than he'd been the first day he'd woken up here in the dirt.

"Well you are."

Taking a deep shuddering breath, he walked over and put the hammer into his pouches before walking out the door without so much as a glance in Guile's direction. _Why does he anger me so much?_ He thought to himself. It didn't make sense. He thought he was used to his guide's infuriating attitude, but it seemed like every word out of Guile's mouth had the power to incite a blinding rage within him. And it was intentional, he knew it was.

* * *

The builder, once more exhibiting the temperament of a youth only recently let out from beneath his mother's care, stomped off. It was beyond comprehension. All the signs indicated that _now_ was the time for change, that _now_ it would finally end... but it was still beyond belief. That _this_ builder could do what had been attempted many times before... Perhaps he was reading the signs wrong...

No, he'd seen the world change on more than one occasion, and this was different. The magic of the world was manifesting itself strongly through this one, and... A sharp pain split him from his skull and down through his spine as the world _shifted_. It had been time immemorial since he'd felt pain like this, and the cause of it... Screaming out in a voice that echoed through the very earth itself, he fell to his knees and was wracked by visions.

The very shape of the world would be changing... The fabric of this world's magic was straining, he'd felt this for some time, but something... else, was happening first. He could see it, the beasts would grow in numbers, the guardians were being joined by others, and very little would remain of the world he once knew. But this change was greater than any he'd experienced in the past, he could feel his very _being_ shaped by it, and right on the cusp of change, the world shifted back.

Lying there, shaking as the sensation left him, he knew that it wasn't time... yet. But that this change was coming, and soon... Perhaps it would be _this_ that allowed the builder to succeed. _This_ that changed things enough for him to accomplish what others could not. As the world dimmed from view, as he recovered from the change that had almost occurred, his mind drifted once more...

* * *

They were ready, they had all drank Tam's potions again, and this time... it was solidly night. Focusing on the eye, he could _feel_ it react, and as the energy within it began to surge, the eye shot into the air, and was almost immediately out of sight.

"Well," Tam began, "that was uneventful."

And then he could _feel_ 'it'. And he didn't know what 'it' was, but an uneasy sensation came over him, as if he were suddenly being watched. He could tell by the discomfort that his friends suddenly started to display, that they could feel it to. Which only worried him further. Looking up towards where the eye had shot off, he thought he could see it coming back... only there was something different...

"Is that..." he began, but didn't need to finish, as the eye coming towards them was much larger than the little eye they'd just lost. It was at least the size of two and a half demon eyes... and it was coming straight at them... slowly...

He noticed that Tam was staring at it intently, and he was wearing the look normally reserved for his forays into new magic.

"What are you thinking of doing?" he asked, but his friend was already gone.

Watching as Tam closed his eyes and stretched out a hand to the slowly descending eye, he jumped a little when an intense beam of white light shot from his hand and enveloped the eye, stopping it in its decent, maybe two bow-shot lengths out, and causing him to glow with the light in turn.

 _"Give me your hand,"_ he wasn't sure he heard Tam say to Perinque... who reluctantly took his hand. She too immediately began to glow with a soft white light.

Watching as she turned to face him, still holding Tam's hand, he heard a voice that wasn't hers, it was soft and echoey... and it said to him, "You are here, and now, it has begun."

"What..." he started, but then tried to revise, "Who..." he didn't like his friends standing there attached to this thing as they were.

"The time has come for you to contain the corruption, or allow it to possess our world," the voice informed him.

His mind reeled. Contain the Corruption? How could he possibly do such a thing! Not only was there so much of it, but just entering the Corruption was dangerous. It was asking of him the impossible, and, "How do you expect me to do that?"

"You have no choice. You will succeed, or the corruption will possess our world. There is no other path."

"I don't know what to do!" he shouted up at it.

"Even I have become... corrupted. It will not be long before I can no longer resist... Heed my words... and... Forgive me..." the voice said.

"For what?!" he tried to ask, but the light connecting the eye and his friends vanished, and everything went to hell too fast for him to react.


	22. The Beginning of the End

The night suddenly too dark with the light extinguished and he didn't really see what happened. All he knew was the screaming coming from his friends was sign that something was wrong, and though he had his sword in hand, he couldn't safely engage until he could properly see. Otherwise he was in danger of injuring his friends. The shadowy shapes before him were moving too fast for him to make out what was going on. He could tell the eye had descended upon them, but the few seconds it took before he could really see, felt like an eternity in that moment.

As his vision adapted, ever so slowly, he could see that the eye was dragging Tam across the ground, tangled in the veiny bits that dangled from the back of it. Perinque was after it, spear flashing impossibly fast as if she were trying to pulverize it in mid-air, which wasn't likely far from the truth. Lunging forward to assist, he watched as the Eye stopped mid flight, causing Tam to swing towards it, and forcing Perinque to stop her assault. Instead, she jumped at Tam as if to break him from the thing's snare, and was unprepared for the speed and force with which the Eye, dropping Tam, Rocketed at her, sending her flying backwards, before stopping, and rocketing towards him.

Had he not already drawn his sword, there would have been no time to do so, even as fast as he could pull it from his pouches. As it was, the sword was of little help in deflecting the thing, and it hit him with the force of an explosion, to which he was almost powerless to resist, and he too was carried backwards, barely managing to hold onto his sword from the impact.

It however was not finished with him, and as they hurtled backwards, he could feel it spin against him, and sensation that was only made worse by the thick mucous that coated the thing, and snared him in its veins as it had Tam. He could feel them sliding around his armor, reaching inside, and digging into his flesh, causing him to scream out in response as it attempted to find the softest bits of his body.

Attempting to swing his sword to remove it's veins was futile, and the thing began pulling him into the air as it burrowed into him. His screaming was loud in his ears, and after what felt like and eternity, he was released... and fell to the ground before finding himself in the darkness that told him he had once more fallen.

 _No! I can't fall now! That THING is out there with Perinque and Tam! I need to go back, NOW!_ he screamed futilely into the blackness... or 'thought'... or whatever it was that he did when he was here. This time though... something was different. He could _feel_ something else here.

 _"Are you truly so eager to return?"_ the voice he'd begun hearing asked him. The voice carried a _wrongness_ to it, as if it was something alien to the darkness, and yet...

 _I need to go back, Now!_ he responded in the way of this place, _My friends are in Danger!_

 _"I, can send you back"_ the voice responded, " _Before_ it _has finished them..."_

 _Do it!_ he pleaded, _Please!_

 _"There is a cost..._ " the voice informed him.

If he didn't get back now, there was no telling what could happen to his friends. Typically when he fell, many hours, and on occasion, even days would pass before he returned, and his friends might not have that much time.

 _I don't care what the cost is, SEND ME BACK_! He thought, shouted...

A piercing pinkish purple light erupted from the darkness and enveloped him. A pain like no other he'd ever experienced washed over him, and a laughter that he could feel in the bones he wasn't even sure he had here, rattled him. Agony was the only thing he knew, and then light, screaming, and a fading of the laughter as a whisper danced at the edge of his hearing... _So be it._

* * *

He hadn't made it very far from Guile's shack when he heard... felt... a scream from behind him. Immediately following that, his gut... _dropped_ and... _something_ happened. He didn't know what it was, but for a moment, it was as if the entire world was doubled... sort of overlaying itself, but... _different_ , and looked sort of like a stack of material looked when it was all together... but only for a moment, and then the sensation was gone.

He doubled over and emptied his empty gut. When he stood back up, he didn't feel as stable as he would have liked and he looked around. Nothing looked any different... and it didn't _feel_ different. He checked his pouches, but nothing had changed there either. He looked down at the ruined rags that mostly covered him, and the shackle he'd stopped noticing he was wearing. Everything seemed the same. _What happened?_ he thought to himself.

"Nothing has happened... yet,” Guile’s voice once more answered his unspoken question.

"What do you mean... _yet_ ," he asked, too weak to care whether or not Guile _was_ in fact reading his mind. Too weak to remain angry even, "What happened?"

"Nothing, as I just informed you," Guile replied.

"Yeah... _Nothing_ like the _nothing_ that happens to you when you start freaking out," he snapped back.

"In fact, it has _nothing_ to do with that... though it may..." his guide stopped, and seemed to consider for a moment. This was new. "It may end up affecting _me_ in ways I cannot yet begin to imagine."

He wasn't sure he liked the idea of that... or perhaps, he _should_ like it? What did it mean that Guile, who seemed to know everything about this place, had no idea what was happening. He asked as much, "How is it that you have no idea what's going on?"

"I never said that," was the unsurprisingly unhelpful and infuriating answer.

"Fine..." he tried re-framing the question, "What was that, that I just experienced?"

" _That_ , and I will assume you are referring to the fluctuation in the makeup of this world's magic, and not, as is your way, the shift in the tonality of my voice, was a Preview," his guide answered.

"A What?" he asked, ignoring the intended jab at him.

"Your ability to retain information is nothing short of incredible," Guile snapped, surprisingly more emotion in it that he was used to, "It was a Preview. A change is coming to the world, and _that_ was a glimpse of the change."

He didn't know how to respond to that. He didn't even know how he _wanted_ to respond to that. Change was coming? _That_ was a 'Preview' of the change? What was going to happen to him? What was going to happen to the world? "When?" was the only thing he could bring himself to ask.

"I do not know."

And that answer, only made it worse.

* * *

As the world began fading back into view, the first thing he became aware of was that he hadn't fully recovered from his time _down_ , as was typically the case. Trying to bring his attention to what was going on around him, that was no more than a fleeting thought as he pulled his sword out and ran blindly towards the screams of his friends. His vision swam slowly back into focus, and provided him a nightmarish scene as a reward.

The giant eye had Perinque trapped within its tendrils, and was very visibly attempting to pull her apart as she struggled against it and Tam lay below trying desperately to throw fire at it without harming their friend. Charging forward sword raised and screaming out at the nightmare, his only thought was in attempting to get her out before she succumbed to its efforts.

The terrified look in Tam's eyes as he came upon them, and the fire thrown his direction did nothing to slow him down, and he lept towards Perinque as his friend shouted, "It's you!You're back!Oh God!Save her!" in a jumbled rush of words.

His second jump propelled him 'just' high enough to sink his sword into the eye and without thinking about it, he grabbed Perinque in one arm and pulling his sword out, tried to cut the tendrils from her in a single motion. As small as the thing was, even though it was larger than the demon eyes, it had no problem holding the both of them in the air as the tendrils began digging into him once more.

The entire world erupted into light around him and everything went silent for a moment as he saw Tam below, hand outstretched towards them, and that same beam of light from before connecting him to the eye. The light was blinding, and Perinque turned towards him suddenly calm, speaking again with that echoey voice.

"It is too late. The corruption will consume this world. You have been tainted, and now there is none to resist."

A voice that he recognized, though not one that he was much pleased to hear spoke in reply, though not through Perinque, "It was always too late. For all that you represent, you are foolish and blind. Resistance was but a dream, and all dreams must end. _Now_ It has begun."

A bright lavender light consumed his vision and the screaming of his friends filled his ears as he felt the eye release Perinque and him. Pulling her on top of him, her weight crushed him into the ground as once more the darkness pulled him from the world. That dangerous laughter escorted him on the way, and did not diminish as he _fell_.

" _You have returned,_ " the voice in the darkness greeted him, every word cutting through him like a knife.

 _My Friends!_ he thought in agony, the pain he felt at what would happen to them outweighing the pain he felt here.

" _They have escaped,_ " the voice informed him, " _It was not their role to fall in that struggle._ "

Relief washed over him, even as the pain he felt intensified. They would survive... that was enough.

" _It is not_ they _that you should concern yourself with fleshling,_ " the voice informed him, " _You have given yourself to_ me _. And now begins_ your _role._ "

Every word ignited waves of sensation, none of which were pleasant, and he felt that the agony he endured would never end. He was almost right.

* * *

It wasn't enough that everything he knew would soon change, but the past refused to remain where it belonged. He could feel himself losing control, and it had been some time since _that_ had happened. This Preview had shaken him more than cared for and he needed to regain his composure if even the builder's inanity was enough to rattle him.

"There is nothing you can do to affect the change. It is a waste of your time to concern yourself with it," not that the builder seemed averse to wasting his time, "At this time you should begin the construction of suitable protection."

Still staring blankly into space, less thought visible in his expression than one would expect even from the walking dead, the builder responded hollowly, "What does it matter?"

This was beyond comprehension. The builder _refused_ to progress within his role. Here the world was on the cusp of a change that could potentially destroy him, and he was unable to realize the need for even _basic_ protection. As Guile prepared to reply, the world dimmed and he found himself once more unable to respond as the voice spoke through him.

"That is for you to decide Fleshling," he could feel his body step towards the builder, and the fear that suddenly entered the builder's expression was... pleasing... to the voice. The shared sensations had long ago become something he endured, but it took all that he had to separate _his_ feelings from _its_... and in his current state, that effort was doubled.

"I..." stepping backward, the builder's gaze was suddenly alert, and his eyes darted frantically as if looking for escape. It was too late however as Guile could feel _it_ reach out through him to grasp the piece of the builder that had returned tainted from his fall.

"You flaunt your foolishness as if a child that has yet to learn suitable respect for the darkness. Perhaps _I_ have been too kind in _my_ teachings... Perhaps it is time to _Educate_ you further," the voice spoke through him as his body walked slowly towards the builder, _its_ grip on the builder tightening with each step.

Face to face with the builder, Guile... no the voice, smiled as Guile fought to regain himself. It was worse now than it had been in some time. The Preview had weakened more than just his patience. _Are you.. afraid?_ the voice asked him. NO! He had managed to keep himself separate for too long to let this happen here! Forcing himself to regain control, he could feel _it_ resist his attempts, and for a moment he felt as if he would lose before...

* * *

The expression on Guile's face was enough to chill him, even with the pain that was digging into him from within. For a moment, looking into his guide's eyes he could see a yawning chasm of... agony, torment, violence, these words only lightly touched whatever is was he saw just waiting behind the gaze. It was as if he was a turtle lying upside down, rocking on its shell at the very edge of pit with no visible bottom, while a sky full of dark shapes descended upon him. No sooner than it had come the expression shifted and he found himself flying backwards as if launched by some powerful force. Thrown into the hill with such momentum, he almost blacked out on impact, and he could feel him bones flex. It was quite some time before he could imagine moving again.

Lying there he made a decision. He was done, done with Guile. If he had to spend the rest of his life in this place alone with nothing more than the little that he'd managed to build for himself so far, he would endure. What he had glimpsed in his guide's eyes shook him more than everything he'd experienced up until this point put together.

Darkness was none too far away when he could force himself to move again, and even then his body resisted. He was less in pain, than he was strangely stiff... not a sensation he'd had to deal with so far, and that only furthered his concern for whatever he'd just seen in Guile's eyes, and what it meant for him. There had been little doubt that his _guide_ was more than he seemed... but he's underestimated the extent of that. No more.

After pulling himself up, it was far too short a walk back to his new home, and he made it there unmolested. Closing the door behind him, he went over to sit in the chair at the other side of the room and sat staring at the door. _I'm done. I can't... won't let him do whatever it is he wants to do to me._ He could not even begin to wrap his mind around what he'd seen in that gaze. Guile was something not even close to human, and given the opportunity, would destroy what little grip he had on reality, and then grind it for an eternity. He'd proven that he could discover things on his own, and he'd just have to settle for that. As difficult as it may end up. For starters...

He got up and walked over to the workbench, and tried to envision an oven... but nothing was coming to him. He reached into his pouches and pulled out all the stone he had, eight blocks... and realized that he needed more. Looking towards the hole he'd left beside the door, he jumped when he saw an undead face there staring in at him, and it took a few moments for his heart to slow back down, not helped by the rhythmic scratching, thumping, and moaning he'd not noticed just before. _What does it say that I'm_ used _to all that_ , he thought almost wryly to himself.

He was still uncomfortable with the idea that these once human looking things were right outside his door, a door that he himself had no trouble opening, and that they couldn't get in to him. If he was honest with himself, he'd felt safer with just the wood than he did with the door, and he considered placing it back for the night...

*KThunk* the door shook with the impact of one of the eyes, and he put more wood than was probably necessary into a frame in front of the door before he could stop himself. It would be easy enough to remove in the morning.

That done, he put the stone back, threw some dirt clumps across the room, set his pouch in a corner near the door, and went to lie down for the night... on the wooden floor... with his thoughts to keep him awake. _Tomorrow I will gather more stone... build myself an oven, and see what new things I can build from there._ It certainly wasn't the most effective way to do things, and he wasn't foolish enough to think that he could 'truly' avoid Guile if his guide decided to come for him, but he couldn't shake the feeling he'd had looking into his eyes...

* * *

Standing a pace away from the chair, facing the wall, Guile focused on who he was. The memories of a time long since forgotten helped, as much as they hurt. He focused on ignoring the voice, that having provoked a response in him, was now more active than it had been in some time.

" _You know the end as well as I, and yet, still you resist,_ " it taunted him, as he found himself suddenly facing the door. Forcibly turning back to the wall, he returned to focusing on who he was, and again, his mind drifted...

* * *

How could he tell his friends the truth. That now he was hearing voices, and that somehow, in a way he couldn't begin to understand, this voice was preventing him from building like he used to. It was gone. Ever since he'd awoken, lying in the bed back in the house he shared with Tam, he just _couldn't_ create things the same way. The workbench, furnace, and anvil no longer resonated with him, and his tools stopped having their usual effect on the land. In fact, even if he just wanted to fasten a torch to the wall, he had to force it into the dirt the way Tam and Perinque always had. Something had changed, and all he could tell them was...

"I just can't."

"Don't worry about it. It'll come back. It must have something to do with that Eye we fought," Tam tried to console him as he handed the potion ingredients back. Tam was still able to perform his magic, and Perinque had never used any, so it was only he that had been affected.

And there was another sore point. He'd fallen not once, but twice in that battle, and his friends had to all but fend for themselves. In fact, it's entirely possible that his only contributions were to make things worse. He knew, even if they didn't, that the voice accompanying the lavender light had been the same voice that had spoken to him in the darkness, the same voice that still occasionally spoke to him now. He didn't understand the extent of what had happened there, and he was certain that he didn't want to.

After the second fall, Tam had grabbed Perinque from beside the tombstone that marked his fall and teleported away. Over and over again he'd teleported, pushing himself much further than he'd ever been pushed magically until he was certain they were far enough to keep the eye from coming after them. As it turned out, he'd teleported them further than any of them had ever gone before, and had seen something that they were now going back to investigate further.

It was a different sort of preparation they had to make now that he was no longer able to affect change upon the terrain at will. For one, they had to wait for Tam's method of potion preparation, and while traveling, would have to rely on the tricks that Perinque used to keep herself safe at night when she wandered alone to ward them if they ended up staying out past sunset. It took a few days, but soon enough they were ready to head off, and if he thrashed and mumbled in his sleep the nights leading up to it, Tam took it as a result of their battle, and didn't question him further.

 _It is all for naught_. The voice had informed him as he woke the morning they were to set out. Were it a constant rattle, he thought he'd do better dealing with it. But it would just randomly comment on things, and he dared not try and respond to it. He didn't know what had happened, but he foolishly believed that if he ignored it... _It is all for naught_. The voice reminded him as they left the house.

Perinque had grown even more distant since the attack. When Tam told her it would be a few days before he'd built up the store of potions he felt they should take, she told them she'd return on the day they'd chosen to leave. He tried talk to her, to see if she was okay, but all she would say to him was, "I'm fine. I just need some time to myself." And she refused to talk about the shadowy clothing she wore now.

So up they went, in silence, and began heading towards the large blue bricked structure that Tam and Perinque had found on the other side of the desert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the night scene with Guile was actually inspired 'In Game'. Pop into a world, and watch your Guide at night. What do you think is 'really' going on there... ;P


	23. Everything Changes

Finishing off the slime, he removed the second wooden platform from the wall and continued on. That ledge beyond the top of the dirt staircase hadn't contained anything of particular interest, as it was more a nook than a continuation of the passage like he'd initially thought. There was a bit of stone up there however, and he collected enough to ensure he could build the oven when he went back to his cave. After that he collected the wood used to get himself up there he continued downward instead, pulling a torch out as he moved to the edge of the light from his last torch.

Before going too far he came across another open cavern, with water at the far end and a path that looped back heading further down. _This looks familiar,_ he thought to himself. But then, all these tunnels did. Moving over to the edge of the water, he noticed two pots sitting in water that would only come up to his calf, and decided it was worth it to wade over to them. Both of them only contained coins, and between them there were 2 silver and 24 bronze coins. Further back, there was an odd reflection from the wall where it met the water.

Trying to make out _what_ it was, he could tell that it _wasn't_ the same metal he'd been collecting... and as that's what he needed at the moment, he decided not to jump into the deeper water for a closer look. Wading back out of the water, he set a torch into the wall at the intersection and continued his way down. By moving quickly he was sure he'd have enough time to find everything he needed before it was too late, and shaking his legs as he walked he couldn't help but appreciate the fact that with his clothing as ruined as it was, it didn't hold as much water as it otherwise would have.

Following the tunnel down, he came into yet another cavern with a much deeper pool of water in it, and no passage heading further on. Crisscrossing the roof above the water was a large number of cobwebs. _Of course._ Reaching into his pouches, he checked how many dirt chunks he had as an idea came to him. If he was going to have to start learning things on his own, he'd have to experiment... and one of the things he wanted to know, was how far his ability to _fasten_ things without having to touch them went.

Remembering back to when he was building the first structure, he recalled throwing blocks up to place them just out of reach... but in climbing he'd just _fastened_ both torches and platforms beyond his reach. There was no reason to think he couldn't do that with everything. On top of that, he could carry these materials in _bundles_ , could he place them as a group? Holding the bundle of dirt in his hand, he attempted to _set_ a large portion of it down, covering the top of the water, at once.

It didn't work the way he thought it would... but it 'was' working... sort of. As he attempted to _set_ the dirt down beginning at the edge of the pool it didn't all drop at once, but he was able to rapidly _fasten_ dirt into place without actually placing it down with his hands. In fact, just standing there at the edge of the water he was able to _set_ dirt in a radius around him, one after the other but very rapidly, and a few paces out. Standing there, he was able to _feel_ the range he could set things out from, as beyond that point he could not _fasten_ dirt.

Walking slowly out onto the dirt he'd set on top of the water, he tested his range, and after a few moments, had a good idea of how far out he could _set_ things without touching them. He was feeling something different... this was certainly strange but he wasn't afraid. In fact, a part of him felt... powerful. _I can build things just by_ thinking _about it..._ He wasn't sure what else he was capable of, but this... this was... awesome.

Experimenting further he realized that within his _radius_ , which seemed to be a globe surrounding him, he was able to fasten a chunk of dirt wherever he wanted, so long as it was attached to something else. He'd tried a few times to fasten dirt to the air, as he'd seen the floating island, but had no luck with that. Whatever made it float was beyond his ability to reproduce. Unfortunately he couldn't remove dirt just by thinking about it, he still had to use the pickaxe, but even what he 'was' capable of encouraged his sudden feeling of power.

_I can build with a thought. In a world that has done nothing but attempt to destroy me since I woke up here, I have the power to create things, and build up structures just by_ thinking _about it..._ it was a staggering realization, and he found that he was less wary of the unknown than he'd been even moments before. What else _could_ he do... He was suddenly eager to learn, eager to continue experimenting with his abilities, for that's what he realized they were.

He'd spent so much time bemoaning the situation he'd found himself in, and had somehow not acknowledged the power he had to control his fate. An impulse hit him. When he struck something with his pickaxe, he could _tell_ how much further the material behind it went. But he vaguely recalled simply touching a stack of iron and _knowing_ the same thing. Now he tried just _feeling_ the material, within his radius... and it worked.

Just reaching out with his mind, in a way that he could not have possibly described had he not just spent the time _fastening_ things without touching them, but in somewhat the same way, he could _feel_ how thick a wall was, and with this, he could tell that the walls around him were all incredibly thick. There was something else though... _feeling_ the walls this way, he could _tell_ what kind of material the wall contained, even if he couldn't see it, all within his radius.

As he moved across the surface of the water, fastening dirt to cover the rest of it as he did, he noticed something strange. As he moved further from the light, he could no longer _feel_ the thickness of the walls, and in fact, was only able to discern as much as he could visually. Pulling a torch out, he was able to discern the thickness of the walls once more... somehow, this ability was tied to the light. Analyzing the logic of his ability to see without seeing when the light was less present was beyond his interest at the moment. And he just accepted it. Even that little change, where he could see something strange, and just accept it... was beautiful in a way he couldn't describe.

After he finished covering the water, for no other reason than because he could, he decided to try out the extent of his new found ability. Building up from the dirt he'd just set in place he fastened together a platform of dirt at about chest level, held up by a single column of dirt. Walking around it, he was strangely uncomfortable with the amount of dirt supported by the single column. With an irrational excitement laced with discomfort, he decided to try climbing onto the platform, and crouched there on the dirt he'd just set in place, heart racing, he felt like he was on top of the world.

Standing on his platform, that by all means should not have been able to support him, he decided to take it a step further. Building out from his platform, and then up to chest level again, still using no more than a single column of dirt, he built another platform, and the amount of dirt in the air over that first column was now just ridiculous, but the whole thing held. He might not have been able to set dirt in the air... Looking at the platform before him... he decided to try something.

Taking his pickaxe out, he removed the chunk of dirt connecting his platform the the platform he'd just built and braced for the assumed collapse... that never came. His heart racing at what he was doing, he continued removing dirt along the column until he was left with a platform suspended in the air at chest level. Recklessly curious, he pushed against the platform, expecting it to possibly sway... or bob... or something... but it didn't move. It was as firmly fastened in the air, as if it had been attached to something. As firm as the floating land mass from before.

_Hell, why not..._ he thought, as he climbed up onto it. It held, and he was now high enough up that he was able to use his sword to remove the cobwebs from the ceiling. Twelve individual pieces of cobweb later, and he carefully climbed down from the platforms, removing them as he did, as why leave behind this dirt when he could do such amazing things with it. Standing on the dirt he'd covered the water with, he really tried to consider what he'd just done.

"Probably not the best place for contemplation," a low voice he didn't recognize said from somewhere behind him.

Turning quickly, pulling his sword out as he did, he looked around for the source, and found nobody.

"Put that stupid thing away. If I'd wanted to kill you, you'd be dead already. I've been watching you for some time now, and you're not particularly careful of your surroundings," the voice informed him. Doing nothing to calm his alarm, and suddenly racing heart. _Powerful... HA! There's still so much I don't know... Like where the heck is..._ "Show yourself then!" he tried shouting above the pounding in his chest.

"I think not," was the reply, once more behind him, "People tend to react badly when I _show myself_ , so you're just going to have to listen to me for now," it finished, moving behind him as he turned frantically trying to find the source. There weren't enough shadows for a person to hide in here... where was he, and how was he staying behind him?!

"Normally I'd be more careful, take my time, work subtly from the shadows... but I don't know how much time I've got, and there's no telling what changes are coming," the voice that no matter where he looked he could not find rattled on, "well... that's not entirely true. I was able to glean a little from the Preview... but it was short lived, and there's no telling how much I've misviewed."

"Who are you?" he tried, shaking, all the power he'd just felt seeping out of him faster than it had come. What good was building dirt platforms against someone he couldn't even see. Hell... what good was building dirt platforms in defending himself at all. He'd been foolish to let himself think anything had changed.

"Doesn't matter," the voice informed him.

"What do you want?" he asked instead.

"For starters, stop asking questions. I'm not going to answer them, and you're not going anywhere until you've finished hearing me out, so the less you talk, the sooner you can leave," the voice answered.

He wasn't sure how to respond, or even if he should... but he wasn't given a lot of time to worry over it.

"First thing's first, stop being stupid," the voice instructed him.

_Great... now I'm being insulted by a mysterious voice_ , he thought to himself. He was still afraid... but under that, and slowly burning, was anger. Enough that he snapped out, "What do you mean by that?"

"What I mean is, you're refusal to accommodate the bringing of others into the world is both futile, and ignorant. Do you really think _you're_ powerful enough to pull and bind someone to this reality against their will? _I'm_ not that powerful, and I'm a fair sight more skilled than you are. The world will have it's way, no matter what you choose to do. It is better to work with it, than against it... trust me on that..." the voice decided to answer his question, fading off a little at the end.

He didn't trust it. But he also realized that standing there jumping every time the voice spoke up wasn't accomplishing anything, so he 'did' put his sword up, and then stood with his back to the wall. The voice still sounded like it was behind him.

"Second thing, stop dying. I mean... I know tonight you're probably toast, but if you hope to keep yourself from being completely corrupted, it would help if you kept yourself alive."

"Wait," he interrupted, pulling his sword back out, "what do you mean tonight... What's going to happen tonight?" he asked, his heart racing, stomach souring as he spoke.

"It's a Blood Moon tonight, and while you may be capable of defending yourself from the walking dead, when I turn... well... let's just say I don't favor your chances against me. I'd love to just head out to the other side of the world and hope I don't find you... but I figure coming to talk to you was more important than keeping you alive tonight," the voice answered him again.

"What do you mean when you turn?" he shouted, considering his options. He could run for it, but if this guy was as powerful as he claimed...

"That's not important... not right now at any rate. The last thing I need to tell you is this," the voice responded, going on as if it hadn't just threatened his life, "The magic of this world may be working through you, but just as by dying you give in to the corruption, you can give in more to the world by finding Life Crystals."

"Life Crystals?" he stammered out, he should just run... at least then he'd have a chance... even if it was futile... he didn't want to die.

A flash of purple light caused him to jump, and when it dissipated, there was a deep red stone shape sitting in the middle of the dirt where the water had been. Afraid to move towards it, for fear that it may be a trap, he instead asked, "What is that?" as he slowly stepped sideways towards the tunnel leading up.

"That, is a Crystal Heart. Within it is a Life Crystal, which will allow you to accept more of the lands power. This will enable to you stay out longer before you need rest, and should keep you from falling as quickly as you currently do. And stop moving towards the exit," the voice said as _something_ hit him in an explosion of purple light from behind, throwing him forward towards the 'heart' and causing him intense pain in the process.

"Graaahhhhh!" he articulated his enjoyment of the assault.

Grabbing onto the red stone shape to balance himself, he was shocked by warmth pulsing from it. In the moment his hands settled on the surface, a ring of light shot up from the base of the shape, within the red stone, and caused the entire thing to shimmer with a soft light. He could _feel_ every pulse reverberate through him, and for a few moments, he was lost in the sensation.

With each ring of light, he felt as if he could _see_ something more, something beyond himself. It was as if by touching this stone, he was connected to... Everything. The stone and dirt around him, the water beneath, trees, slimes, even the walking dead... he could feel it all... and for a moment, he was in danger of losing himself in the vastness of it all.

Beneath everything though, there was a... sickness. Something that 'should not have been' but was. Something corrupt in the oneness of the land. And even just _seeing_ it, however it was that he was doing this, made him ill. It was as if he could feel the _wrongness_ eroding away at him, at everything. And the more he could feel it, the more it seemed to wear away at him, and for a fleeting moment, he could _feel_ something else...

Another burst of purple light and he was thrown back from the stone, severing his connection to the land and saving him from the wave of _wrongness_ that had begun to build up and head his way. Lying in the dirt, it took his mind a few minutes to reconcile his meek and inconsequential body.

"The barrier is too thin..." the voice informed him, "that should not have happened, not yet in any event. Not ever if you're lucky."

"What..." he tried out his voice, managing little more than a low murmur, the inadequacy of his whole being crushing his psyche.

"The change is here..." the voice answered, having heard him after all, "You are in luck, it seems that you aren't to die tonight after all. I can already feel it taking shape..."

He couldn't muster up the energy to care, let alone move. He was nothing...

"Take your hammer to the Crystal Heart," the voice instructed him.

"It doesn't matter," he tried informing the voice. How could he have believed that any of it mattered? That _wrongness_... it was so vast. It would consume everything, and nothing he did would change that. He was little more than an insect in its path, and it would consume him without ever knowing that he was even there.

"Get up!" the voice yelled at him, "Take your hammer to the Crystal Heart, you don't have a lot of time, and you need to stabilize yourself before the change."

He lifted his head, still lying on his back and looked down towards the red stone... heart? Sure, it could be. The ring of light pulsed steadily from its base, and up through it. It 'did' seem to pulse with a life of its own... almost like a heart... But it still didn't matter.

_That's right, it's futile, lie here and the change will come as it is meant to come..._ he thought, or was that him, he was having a hard time concentrating, and everything around him seemed to reverberate as if the very land was overlapping itself. A low thrumming was beginning to build in the air. It was not unlike the feeling of standing near the workbench, but on a much larger scale.

A pair of hands pulled him to his feet, hands that belonged to a body he could not see. These same hands unceremoniously shoved him towards the 'heart' as a voice he could hardly hear seemed to yell from an impossible distance, almost fully drowned out by the thrumming, "....b..re..a..k.. th...e.. h...e...ar...t..."

Standing on dirt, no... stone... was there water at his feet... where had all that ice come from.... he pulled his pickaxe from his pouches... no, it was his hammer... what was he doing again... Looking up, he saw the heart, the only thing not doubled in his vision, beating a slow pulse in tune with... something... everything... and like a drowning man grasping desperately for something that would float... anything, he reached out for it, and _knew_ what he had to do.

He could feel his hammer as if it was an extension of himself. It wasn't just a tool... it was him, he was the tool, and though a small voice tried to convince him that he was wasting his time, a stronger _sense_ told him to do this. He reached out towards the heart, with his hammer, with himself... and he could _feel_ the life within. Arm raised, he brought the hammer down, and as the wood came in contact with the heart, the entire world fell apart around him.

* * *

The sun was incredibly hot. He knew this wasn't news to anyone... but it was all he had to observe at the moment. There wasn't a lot to look at in the desert. They'd been walking for most of the day, and as Tam and Perinque had been understandably distracted the last time they'd crossed it, there was no telling how much further they had to go. _Just over the next hill... it's got to be..._ he tried encouraging himself. It didn't work.

Even out here in the direct sunlight, Perinque's shadows seemed to move just a moment after she did. And with that cloth covering her entire body, it was hard to make out hear features due to that. It was almost like there was a 'Shadow Version' of her that was ever so slightly slower than she was. He'd given up trying to talk to her about it, but in this barren waste, he couldn't keep himself from pondering it once more.

"We're almost there!" Tam said as soon as he reappeared, excitement clear in his voice. He'd been scouting ahead, teleporting to the top, of the hills whenever they came upon a larger one, and the confirmation of his idle hope was enough to stir his flagging spirits. _Change is coming_ , the voice informed him, just in case he'd forgotten since the last time it had said as much.

"Did you look to see if anyone else was around?" Perinque asked.

"Yes and No," Tam responded.

"Wait... yes you looked, and no there isn't anyone there? Or you only sort of looked?" she followed up.

"Once more, Yes and No," he smirked as he answered.

Lunging towards Tam, Perinque found herself grasping at the air as he stood laughing a little ways up the hill. He was getting better at teleporting with short notice.

"There's nobody there, at least, nobody outside," he answered through his laughter.

"Well, shall we go check it out then?" he tried talking over the voice that was once more informing him, _Change is Coming._

Giving Tam a look that warned of a retort later, Perinque started up the hill, leaving the two of them to catch up.

"Hey, Tam," he said before his friend magicked himself away.

Turning to look back at him, Tam responded, "What's up?"

He'd been thinking about how to broach this in a way that didn't call his sanity into question, so he attempted, "Have you ever come across anything that you couldn't see, but that you could still hear while you've been working on your magic?"

"Like something invisible?" Tam asked, suddenly seeming a little defensive... which was a bit strange.

"No..." he was suddenly a little reluctant to continue, "or maybe... I was more thinking like..." he really didn't want to start this conversation, but he'd already begun, "like... voices," he ended, knowing how it sounded.

His friend gave him a strange look, as if he were thinking something, but not ready to discuss it. He knew how it sounded, he should have never asked, maybe he could change the topic...

"When?" Tam asked him, clearly wary now, "When are you talking about?"

"No time in particular," he stammered out, "I was just wondering, you know, hot, tired, maybe dehydrated, I should probably have another glowing mushroom..." he tried deflecting, lamely even to himself.

"You two coming?!" Perinque shouted down.

Tam gave him a searching look, before teleporting up beyond Perinque, "Just waiting on you!" he answered her with a laugh.

_Change is coming._ The voice told him as he started up towards his friends... He knew, and he didn't like it.


	24. An Introduction of Course

"Dear friends and family, we are gathered here today..."

I was too excited to follow everything he was saying. I knew that _this_ was _the moment_ , the time where all my attention should be on my future, but beyond just my excitement, that strange headache that had been following me for the past few weeks was worse now than it had been in some time. I could only hope that it wasn't showing on my face how much pain I was actually in... but if this were any other day, I probably wouldn't have even left the house. As it stood, it was getting more and more difficult to focus on what was going on around me. I was honestly afraid I'd miss my cue, and we'd run through rehearsal at least a dozen times already...

"...let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your soul. Fill each others'...

Were the lights suddenly getting brighter? I couldn't tell... but they certainly seemed brighter. Somehow I managed to stumble through the reading of my vows. It was a good thing we'd decided to bring the written vows with us. I know this was a favor to me, but without that paper, there was no way I could have made it through them. What was that ringing noise?

"the wearing of the rings is a visible..."

We had our rings... this was really happening. It had begun to feel like we'd never make it to this day, but here it was... and it was incredibly hot in here...

"Do you Johnathan Riley, take..."

Here it was! The moment that mattered... and I could hardly breathe... I needed to make it... just a little longer....

"I do."

_Wait! No! We have to finish this! Where is everyone going!?_ I tried reaching out... grabbing a hold of something... anything, but it was as if everything had turned into mist around me, and no matter how I screamed, nobody could hear me. The world, the mist, scattered, and everything faded into darkness.

As sound slowly began creeping back into my awareness, I was having trouble remembering where I was. _Why does everything seem so... foggy?_ It was hard to focus... _Why am I lying on the ground?_ I was uncomfortable, and something... something important had just happened... _What time is it?_ I tried opening my eyes... _It's so bright!_

As my vision swam back into focus, slower than I would have liked, I tried to make sense of the figure standing above me. Tousled brown hair with an incredible cowlick... no, that wasn't quite accurate, maybe a 'cow munch'? It was as if a cow had come to graze upon his hair and ended up raking his teeth through it instead. This wild hair framed an unnervingly plain face, with pearly purple eyes that seemed to cut into me with an almost surgical precision.

"Who..." I was having a hard time putting words together.

A small smile that was gone before it even had time to settle brushed the guy's face and his _blue?_ eyes softened as he visibly slouched while still standing over me.

"I'm called Guile," he answered my incomplete question.

"I'm Kathryn, Where..." three words! I was on a roll! Thinking was still difficult however, and sitting up was beyond me, but I was gaining feeling back in my hands in feet. That had to be good.

"Terraria," he answered... which didn't really help me.

"Why can't I..." maybe if I tried again I could sit up this time...

"It will take some time for your memory, or what remains of it, to settle. Until then, you should probably take shelter here," he responded, gesturing as he did, behind him.

I decided to make the effort, and found that my body 'was' in fact ready to return to operation. Sitting up it turned out wasn't as hard as I'd thought it would be, and while the entire world was a swirling mass of colors for a moment, everything cleared and I saw a small wooden structure with a wooden door and a hole neatly cut into the wall beside that. Wait, what was wrong with my memory?

Looking around I realized that the guy wasn't there any longer. _He was right in front of me, where did he go?_

Looking down at myself, I wondered for a moment at the white dress I was wearing. Simple, unadorned, but it still carried an air of quality workmanship. Why was I wearing... _Oh God! Johnathan!_ My wedding, our wedding, where was I? Where was he? Getting to my feet, I was worried for a moment that my legs would not support me. Thankfully I was wrong in this case, but I was no nearer to figuring out what was going on. Heart racing, fear guiding my actions over logic, I stumbled over to the door in the hope that perhaps I'd find him or the strange guy within.

Pushing the door open, I looked around the inside of the small structure and found nothing more then a small stool on the left, a two chairs against the back wall, and a large blocky stone fireplace in the middle of the room. I checked behind the oven just in case, but beside a torch attached to the wall, there was nothing else in the sterile little structure. Going back outside, I looked around me to see if someone was outside, or maybe if there was some kind of landmark that would tell me where I was.

I was on top of a small plateau with a clear view of the surrounding landscape. But aside from a few sparse trees out in front of the structure that butted against another small rise in the earth, the rest of the landscape had little to no defining features in that direction. To the left of the structure, the land rolled and rose into a series of grassy plateaus, and eventually gave way to mountains in the distance. To the right, the land rolled down to a series of watery rivulets that eventually ran into a thick leafy overgrowth. _Where am I?_ Wherever I was, standing here wasn't going to help me figure it out, but there was nothing to head for...

"Lost?" the voice of the strange guy broke into my frantic thoughts.

"Where am I?" I shouted, whirling around to face him, my panic overshadowing the faint fear that his sudden reappearance inspired.

"I've answered that question already. You are in Terraria," he answered simply.

"Where is that? Have you seen Johnathan? How did I get here? Where is everybody?" I jumbled all my questions out, each on as important as the last.

"It's a world apart from the world you've come from; I may have, but he did not introduce himself as such if so; You were summoned by the magic of the earth; and without clarification, I cannot answer that," he rattled out in answer to my questions.

Focusing on the question that was most important at the moment, and discarding the ridiculous answers about other worlds and magic, I pushed, "You _may_ have seen Johnathan? What do you mean by that? Where is he? Is he okay? Can you take me to him?"

"Yes, Exactly as I said, I don't know, I don't know, and No," he once more listed off his answers, "And it would make the conversation easier on the both of us if you didn't bundle all your questions together," he added with an infuriating smirk on his lips.

Trying to calm myself for a moment, I looked him over. Grey long sleeve shirt, and blue pants, made of a thick material I didn't recognize above brown hide boots. If nothing else could be said about him, it was obvious he took meticulous care of his clothing. The outfit could have been brand new, or freshly washed. Somehow this attention to his appearance seemed to fit him in a way I could not identify.

"Listen, I don't know how I got here, the last thing I remember I was at my wedding. The next thing I know I'm waking up on the ground with you..." suddenly the fact that I was alone in the middle of nowhere with a strange guy hit me like a physical blow and I could feel the blood draining from my face as my gut tied itself into a rather taut knot, "... you... uhhh..." looking around I realized that there was nothing I could use to defend myself with... I could run... taking a step away from the guy, I tried to say something that would rapidly excuse me, "... know what, I'm okay.... finding my way back." I said as I continued backing away.

"That will be a rather difficult endeavor on your own," he replied, thankfully not moving to follow me.

"I'll be okay," I answered him, "Just uhh... point out the nearest road, and I'll figure it out."

His face seemed to lose what little feature it had as his eyes focused on something that must have been an impossible distance away. I watched strangely entranced as the color of his eyes appeared to change, going from blue, to an almost luminescent purple, before coming back to blue as his focus returned with the rest of his features.

Raising his arm to point towards the marshy area, he informed me, "The closest _road_ is in _that_ direction, just barely. Though it may be difficult to reach it as not only will you have to cross the jungle, and an ocean, but there is an encampment of goblins between us and the road. You could of course..."

"AN OCEAN!" I yelled at him, all my fear forgotten for a moment in my anger and disbelief, "How did you get me across an Ocean!" I added, ignoring for the moment his racial slur against whatever group _goblins_ were supposed to be.

" _I_ did not," he replied calmly, "It was the magic of the world that brought you here, not I."

I was close to losing it. I was afraid, I was angry, and I was lost with a crazy person who had probably drugged me and brought me out to the middle of nowhere for who knows what reason... and I had to find Johnathan, he could be hurt. I don't know why I felt that, but I did. As if there was something wrong with... the guy.

Looking at him, I could _tell_ that there was something very wrong with him. Not something physical, he looked sound of body, but something else... something I had no words for, and it left me feeling like I wanted to run and hide, to cower from that which I couldn't see... I felt for a moment like a child left alone in the night as the things from under the bed made dark promises below me. It left me with a chill that overrode the fear and anger I was feeling.

"You are quicker to your role than the builder was," he rattled out, "though you cannot possibly hope to heal what ails me," he added, radiating a deep sadness that so starkly contrasted whatever it was that I felt from him that I was thrown off balance for the heartbeat that it was there before he once more took control of his features.

Putting my hand to my head in an attempt at... I wasn't even sure what I wanted to accomplish, but this was too much... In only a few minutes I'd run through the gamut of emotions, and I was no closer to figuring out what was going on than I'd been when I first awoke. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath in an attempt at calming myself, I tried reasoning things out.

If this guy really has kidnapped me for some horrific reason, why would he answer my questions? Is he playing some kind of game with me? What other reasonable reason could I have to be out in the middle of nowhere with my memories clouded? And why is he talking about such ridiculousness as magic and alternate worlds if he isn't crazy? Where was I going to go from here? I needed a plan.

Opening my eyes, I was startled to realize that the guy had left while I was sitting there with my eyes closed. _Great... he could be anywhere,_ I thought, but it didn't matter. If he was playing some sick game, standing here fretting about it wouldn't get me any closer to safety. _What was it he wanted me to do? Stay in this structure? Well that's off the list..._ it was strange though... I felt like I _should_ stay in that building, and I couldn't say why.

Regardless, if that's what that guy wanted, that was precisely what I _wasn't_ going to do. I needed to figure out where I was first... I decided that I wasn't going to head out towards the marshy lands he'd indicated either. I needed to find some marker to indicate _where_ I was, and then I could plan out a little further. The problem was, I could see for quite a ways in every direction, and there was nothing, nothing at all besides wilderness as far as I could see. And while any direction I went theoretically _could_ be taking me back towards humanity, it could also take me further out into the middle of nowhere. There wasn't a 'good' option here.

I wasn't going to get anywhere just standing here though, so decided to set off behind the little building. I could see something standing impossibly tall in that direction, and while I didn't think that anything could be gained from it's even higher vantage, I figured that something like that might attract people, so it was as good a place to start towards as any. Carefully, I began to descend the side of the plateau towards what looked like a small canyon. _It's a good thing I like hiking..._

Looking out over the dunes, I realized with a shock that I kind of missed the little lake I'd had before. The world had changed more than once in a relatively short amount of time after this Preview. It had been... quite some time since the last change, and I'd almost stopped expecting it... almost. _He_ knew the changes were coming, which meant that in some way, _I_ knew as well... but I tried not to let our thoughts overlap too often.

 _He begins in earnest,_ my Master informed me. Not that this was a particularly useful revelation, as it would probably be some time before he made it out my way... but it was good to know 'something' was finally happening again. I wondered briefly at what foolish notions 'this' one would harbor. _Oh, to be young again..._ I watched the sand fountains as the antlions played their bizarre games in the dunes, and the sand brought back memories of another time I'd had the desert before me...

"Checkmate!" I shouted as I snapped the small bone figure down triumphantly, "You're not that good at Chess!" I informed the skeleton sitting across from me.

Shaking its skull, the bone guy stood up and wandered off, articulating 'something' with its arms as it did. A few other bone guys were waiting for him and they wandered off together.

 _That was not very polite..._ my master informed me.

"Yeah, yeah... I know, but _you_ said they had someone who could beat me," I told him, "I was just letting him know he wasn't as good as he thought he was. It's true!" I defended myself.

 _True or not, you should work on your gamesmanship_ he responded, _or they are going to tire of your company. They do not_ have _to spend time with you, they do this as a favor to me. Your role does not require their attention,_ he added.

"Okay... I'm sorry," I said, dropping my head. He was right. It would be pretty boring around here if everyone started avoiding me. "Hey," something occurred to me, "What _do_ they do when I'm not around?" And then I _focused_ on my master's presence within me. I couldn't tell if he knew I could sometimes see more than he told me, but if I focused just right...

A brief flash of empty corridors... no, not empty, the floors were littered with bones, sometimes in stacks, sometimes just spread out, but nothing was happening, just a brief flash of this, and then master answered, _They enjoy themselves when you are not around. Do not worry about the leisure of the dead, as you have quite some time before that becomes a concern of yours._

He was right of course. From what he'd told me, I was going to be here for a long... long time. It wasn't _that_ long ago that I had wandered into the strange blue bricked building, but I was okay with the way things were now. Master saved me from the Guardian, and has been with me ever since. I couldn't see him, but I could hear him, in my head.

I didn't remember anything about where I came from, and master assures me that it's for the better. Apparently he knew something but whenever I asked, the only images I could gleam were of me lying in a dirty room wearing dingy clothing while covered in blood. I was reluctant to ask him about it, as I didn't want him to know I could see more than he said.

I'd tried asking his name on a few occasions, but he always told me, _I am your master. That is all you need to know._ So I just called him master. It was good enough. He'd never asked my name, and only referred to me as _Servant_. It didn't bother me though. I wasn't very good with names anyway, at least... I didn't feel like I was.

I could feel master's presence _expand_... that typically meant he was doing something that I would have to... _There are visitors approaching. We must return to the surface_ he said, like I knew he would. _Wait, Visitors?_ We hadn't ever had those. Normally it was zombies making a mess during the blood moon. Excited, I looked around for a caster, and right on cue one of them wandered into the room.

Rushing over to him, he held his hands up to keep me from plowing into him, which wasn't fair because I hadn't done that in a while. He waited while I calmed myself before taking hold of my shoulder and teleporting us to the top of the stairwell. Rushing up the last few steps while he teleported back, I ran through the door and almost crashed into someone who was standing on the other side.

"Stay here for a moment," Perinque motioned to the two of us as she approached the door set in the face of the structure, "I'll look around inside and call you when I'm sure it's safe."

She'd been doing this the entire trip, ever since the discovery that he was no longer able to build. To here thinking, there was no telling if he had lost even more, and perhaps the next time he fell it'd be his last. As much as he wanted to argue, between the voice, and the absoluteness of his loss, he didn't. _Your safety is guaranteed until_ I _am through with you,_ the voice informed him, which was a few more words than it had said in a couple of days.

"What's the matter?" Tam asked him as Perinque began walking down the blue brick covered approach to the large structure.

Jumping at the question, for a moment he thought that perhaps Tam had heard the voice, but realizing that his friend was probably just reading him as he was want to do, he responded, "Nothing... I just.. don't like being treated like I can't take care of myself, you know?" as he attempted to squash the grimace he was wearing.

"Heh, don't worry about it. She's always been like that. You're just upset because she might be right," Tam informed him, "Before, you'd have just ignored her and gotten into an argument. So me, I like this better," he added.

He wasn't actually afraid that he wouldn't come back the next time he fell... he was more worried about what would come back with him. That voice...

"So hey," Tam interrupted his thoughts, "What were you going on about earlier? You know, voices and stuff. Did you..." here his friend gave him a strange searching look, "hear something... or you know... think you heard something?"

He knew that his expression probably revealed the lie, but he couldn't worry his friends any more than they already were, "No... I was... just, making conversation. Now that I can't build things like I used to, I figured I'd learn a little more about the kind of magic _you_ use," he answered lamely.

It was clear that Tam didn't believe him, but thankfully his friend seemed like he wasn't going to push it, "Okay... but if you do, you know... think you hear something... I..." he glanced furtively at the door Perinque had just disappeared behind before finishing in a rush, "I've been working on an invisibility potion," he blurted out.

Eyes wide, he suddenly realized why Tam had responded the way he did when he asked and relief surged through him, "That must have been it then," he lied, almost slumping in his relief, "I just didn't want you to think I was losing it," he added for good measure.

"No, I'd never think that," his friend assured him, his ready smile back, "I know you're too far gone to lose any more," he ended with a laugh.

"There's nobody here," Perinque called out from the doorway gesturing them towards her when they looked over, "But there _is_ a staircase going further down, we should probably- Ooof!" she was interrupted as the door flew open and a small figure crashed into her.

Perinque was terrifyingly fast. In the brief second that it took her to realize something had hit her, she was already turned around and holding whatever it was with one hand as she brandished her spear in the other. But as quick as she was, the small figure was faster. She hardly had time, even with all of her surprising speed, to fully brandish her spear before she was sent flying backwards towards them by an unseen force.

"Wait!" a small voice erupted from the figure in the doorway, "Stop!" the young boy shouted with his hands up in as if to ward them away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wanted a drastic change for 1.2. What do you think? Success? If you found yourself thinking 'What the Heck', then I at least count it a success. ;P I will say that the 'Cow Munch' line was actually robbed from my roomie as I tried to identify what the 'Guide's' hair style 'was', and kept referring to it as a 'Cow Lick' to which she vehemently responded it wasn't, before delivering that beautiful line.
> 
> Also, before anyone points it out, I was intentionally vague in the first section so that the 'reveal' that this was now 'Kathryn's' perspective was an actual 'Reveal'. Yes, I was messing with you guys. ;P


	25. A Whole New World

  Breathing... he had breathing back. That was good. He took a deep breath and released it, simply enjoyed the sensation of air coursing through his lungs. Feeling? Was that the ground beneath him? He tried moving something... no? Too soon. He went back to breathing. _"....b..re..a..k.. th...e.. h...e...ar...t..." the words still echoed in the... darkness? Where was this?_

*Inhale*

  How long had he been out? Where was he now? What was that noise? These were all likely very important questions. But all he _knew_ was that breathing was nice... _It was almost as if the entire world had been held together by that heart. Hitting it brought him here... wherever_ here _was... he could hear dark whispering at the corner of his consciousness... but it was muted, as if coming from a great distance, or passing through a buffer..._

*Exhale*

  He tried opening his eyes... nope. Even though he could feel the warmth of the Sun on his face, it was still too early for that. He continued to breathe... _The whispers, they were gone... Who? He was alone, but something... else... was nearby. He could feel it, but it was just out of reach. Maybe if he stretched towards it..._

*Inhale*

  He tried to focus. He was having a hard time... thinking... _It was all around him. It was immense. It was alive. He could feel it's pulse... through the Heart! He could feel the heart... but what was he supposed to do with it? Why was he so certain he_ should _..._

*Exhale*

  Something ran across his chest... wait, he had a chest! He tried to open his eyes again... and the light was incredible... he closed his eyes. That could wait.... _It, the big It has something to do with the heart... but he could feel it pulling away... no it was being pushed... he reached out to stop it from leaving..._

*Inhale*

  If he had a chest, he should have arms... hands... he pulled himself to a hunched sitting position, his face in his hands. Progress... _He could almost hear the whispering again, but the heart... he could reach out_ with _the heart... no_ through _the heart... he held it up, offered it up..._ It _responded._

*Exhale*

  He risked opening his eyes once more, and though the light was still intense, he could handle it... or at least the reflected light glaring up from the dew dampened grass. His thoughts were slowly catching up with him... _He could feel himself pulled into_ It _... pulled from the claws of something that faded as soon as it lost its grip on him._ It _had him now, and he was... not safe... but... Alive._

*Inhale*

  He stood up, and squinted around. As he rose, the haze fell off of him like a half forgotten dream, and between one breath and the next, he felt as good as if he'd just awoken from a quiet nap following an uneventful day. _He could feel it now, it wasn't just around him anymore. It was a part of him... and this was good._

*Exhale*

  He looked around at where he had awoken. Somehow he'd gone from the cave, back above ground... but where? He realized that the dampness of the grass was actually due to the standing water all around him, and not morning dew like he'd assumed. He thankfully had not been laid _in_ the water, but the ground all around him was damp, and though his haze had faded, his head was beginning to ache.

  _Guile probably brought me out here..._ he thought to himself. Either Guile or that voice... whoever it was. Still, he wasn't sure where _here_ was. He was standing on a small outcropping of a rather steep hill that extended higher above him than any of the hills near his little home, and below him the water made an almost marshy soup of the grass below... So perhaps he was on the other side of the broken earth.

  Deciding that he'd have a better view atop the hill than he had from where he currently was, he began finding his way up the face of the hill. As he made his way up, he was particularly distracted with the terrain around him. Even facing the hill, he felt like he could still _feel_ the sparsely treed area below him with the watery earth, and with every movement, he could _feel_ more of the area above him, in so much that he _knew_ before topping the hill that there was a wooden structure on the crest.

  Frowning at the structure he was accosted by two confusing sensations. The first, that he 'knew' this structure in fact, he had built it, contrasted the terrain where he found it. This 'looked' like the small structure he'd first built... but this wasn't where he'd built it... The second sensation was an _awareness_ of what was inside the structure. Not just in a remembered way, but as if he could _sense_ the inside of the structure the same way he could _sense_ the terrain around him... and all these conflicting sensations were rapidly overwhelming him...

"Gah!" he fell to his knees and closing his eyes with hands pressed to his eyes, tried to _STOP_ sensing everything around him. For a brief moment it was significantly worse, it was as if he were even _More_ aware, followed by a moment of... he didn't know how to properly articulate it even to himself, but for a moment he felt as if sitting there with his eyes closed, he could _see_ the terrain around him as if from... above? And then blissfully it stopped, and unless he _reached out_ in the way he'd learned to do below ground, he didn't _see_ everything around him until he was actually looking at it.

   He sat there cradling his head for a moment more and tried to rationalize what he was seeing... before laughing at himself. _I can_ see _things without looking at them, I have a pouch on my side that carries a seemingly limitless amount of material, I can build platforms of dirt that levitate in the air, without even needing to touch it... and I'm trying to_ rationalize _how a building I almost literally_ threw _together could_ possibly _be somewhere other than where I'd originally built it?_ He couldn't help it, his laughter only deepened at the ridiculousness of his concern.

   Standing back up, he shook his head as his laughter petered off and decided to check the structure out. Pulling a mushroom out, that did thankfully wash away the dull ache remaining to him, he went inside.

   His first initial reaction to the room before him was surprise, followed by a brief throb in his skull. _What happened to the oven?_ The room was as he left it, which given its location was strange, but even stranger was the shape of the oven before him. It still sat near to the center of the room, and it still projected a very noticeable heat... but it looked completely different. For a moment he felt like he could see the oven doubled, with the blocky furnace superimposed over a round oven... before his vision snapped back, and a gentle throbbing behind his eyes was all that remained of the momentary overlap.

   It bothered him not just because it was different... but because a small part of him didn't _feel_ like anything had changed. It was as if what he _felt_ was directly opposed to what he could see... and _that_ bothered him. _This is stupid._ He didn't want to stand around trying to figure this out. In fact, he didn't really want to stand around Guile's little building any longer than he had to. He'd been lucky enough not to run into his _guide_ so far, and he had no interest in changing that luck. Walking back outside, he decided to take this opportunity to look around from this new vantage.

   It had all changed. The terrain was similar... in some ways, but it was obviously not the same place he'd been before, and not just because the house was on top of a small plateau. A selection of plateaus where rolling hills had been before, sparse trees where the wood had been thicker, and the jagged terrain behind the building was replaced by a large simple ravine, with a tall tower of some kind in the distance. And it was more than just that... where before the earth had appeared rough, and almost haphazardly hewn... it now seemed as it if had been crafted by a more experienced hand.

   Shaking the notion, he decided to try and find his little structure by heading out from Guile's in the same direction he would have gone before, hoping as he did that it hadn't moved in relation... if it was even here. He refused to let the fact that the entire world had just changed shape around him. For all he knew, this would happen every few days, and so he would need to get used to it. Not only that, but he'd been unharmed in the change, and in fact, felt better than he had since he'd first awoken. It was hard to put into words... but he just felt... better.

   Heading back down the sheer face, he carefully picked his way through the muddy grass to the much flatter sparsely wooded area, taking care to avoid the slimes bouncing through. Heading in what he thought was the right direction, he continued on long enough that he was beginning to think he'd either gone the wrong way, or that his little structure wasn't here. Just as he was about to head back and try again, he saw a small flicker of 'something' off to the side. Looking closer he realized that it was a torch, set in the ground, right before a large dip in the earth. Walking over to it he was pleased to see a door, set into a wooden paneled wall, that seemed built into the face of the earth below him.

   Smiling as he climbed down, he was pleased up until the moment he opened the door. He stood there unable to summon words for what he found within.

 "Get Out!" he yelled at the interloper in a sputtering rage.

 "Why it's so nice to see you again as well," Guile answered his anger with no more notice than ever, "though I must admit-"

 "I said get out!" he yelled interrupting his guide, anger overriding his common sense and self-preservation for the moment.

   This one space was his only respite from all the crazy he had to deal with in this place, and now, after having the very ground itself up and change around on him, he had come here looking to take advantage of that respite... only to discover it befouled by Guile. It was too much, and his frustration only fueled the rage he felt at this trespass.

 Frowning at him, Guile asked, "And why should I do that?"

   Dumbfounded by the ridiculous question, he hollered back, "You HAVE a place of your own! You TRICKED me into building it for you! Go there! Leave MY space alone!" he raged, ashamed at the hint of a whine audible even to his own ears, but too angry to truly care.

 Replying for all the world as if they were merely enjoying a pleasant conversation, Guile responded, "This is my housing."

   He felt his eyes were in danger of ejecting themselves from his skull so wide was his gaze, and his brows had certainly found a new home amidst the ruins of his hair. For a moment, he could not articulate a response and he just stood there shuddering, exhaling incoherent noises in his rage.

  Guile merely stood watching him, and eventually he was able to take hold of himself enough to attempt an audible response. Preparing with a slow shuddering breath, he tried, "No..." he had to take another breath to continue, "this is MY housing. _Your_ housing is out there on a rise in the earth. So if you would just leave me alone..."

" _That_ housing is already occupied," Guile interrupted him.

"I was just there! There's..." he stumbled over his angry retort as the words sunk in, _Already Occupied? Could there be someone else here?_ " ...nobody... up there..." he managed to stammer out, his thoughts reeling _Could it be the gentleman? What about that voice? Is there finally someone else here who knows what's going on?_

"That does not change the fact that unless they _fall_ , the structure belongs to them, and not I," Guile informed him.

  He was too excited by the prospect of having someone else, someone that wasn't Guile to talk to, to really focus on what was being said. _There's someone else here... someone that isn't..._ a thought hit him like a rock between the eyes, and his excitement waned. "How did they get here?" he asked suspiciously.

"The magic of the world brought them here," his guide answered him obliquely.

"No..." his gut soured, and he really didn't feel like playing one of Guile's games at the moment, "What I mean is... did _I_ do this? I haven't collected..." he quickly checked the coins in his pouch, and while he had more than he had expected, he didn't have 50 Silver Coins... "enough coins to bring someone here," he finished, remembering as he did the voice's mocking answer to the same declaration before he blacked out.

"It is not within your power to bring someone to this world," his guide replied.

  Speaking out through clenched teeth, he almost spit his response, "You _know_ what I _mean_! Did _I_ do _something_ that _triggered_ this _person_ being _pulled_ to this _place_ against their will?"

"Perhaps," Guile answered him, that rage inducing smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"Gah!" he shouted, swinging his arm to smash his fist into the door frame behind him. "Why do you have to make every conversation so difficult!" he yelled, anger overriding the souring of his gut.

"Why do you have to ask such unnecessary questions?" Guile asked him, that unfaltering smirk still present.

  Taking a deep breath, he tried to respond in a calmer fashion, "Ignoring the fact that we have completely different views of what is unnecessary, how am I supposed to know what I _should_ or _shouldn't_ be asking Unless, I, Ask?" he spit out.

"You have a role. Ask the questions that are related to your role," his guide responded.

"That's not good enough!" he snapped back, "I don't even know what my _role_ is! Besides that, I've tried, and STILL you make it difficult!" he ranted.

  Guile just stood there as if waiting for him to finish yelling, and he felt his anger collapse. This was not only a waste of time, but he was spending time here with Guile that he could be spending- "Who _is_ this other person?" he tried instead.

"Kathrynn the Nurse has arrived," he was told.

"Who the what?" he answered, a little confused. _Kathrynn... why do I know..._ his gut dropped. The well dressed gentleman had shouted her name, right before disappearing into the night. That was several days ago. There was next to no possible chance he was still alive, and now...

"Kathrynn the Nurse. She has arrived," Guile repeated, speaking as if he were talking to someone too simple to understand what he was saying.

"I heard you the first time!" he barked back.

"And yet you insisted on asking again," he was answered, "and then complained when I answered again, yet _I'm_ the one making things difficult," Guile answered, still wearing his ever present smirk.

  He shuddered with the effort of swallowing an angry retort. This wasn't going anywhere... though one thing stood out to him. He'd been yelling at Guile, and so far... his guide had not _wigged out_ like he was prone to doing when he yelled. He didn't know what to make of it, but he was thankful for the reprise. Not that he wanted to push it. Perhaps this change had affected Guile in some serious fashion... were he only so lucky.

"Where..." he was trying to ignore Guile's snark, "is she then?"

"She has arrived."

"Forget it!" he snapped, he was done. Turning and slamming the door behind him he stomped off towards Guile's... or Kathrynn's... building. _Guile can_ have _that building.. I'll just build another one! I am_ done... DONE _with him!_ he wasn't paying too much attention to where he was walking and wound up falling onto a slime on its way through.

  He could feel it compress beneath his weight before it jumped, sending him stumbling backwards and knocking his head against the earth. Disoriented for a moment, he pulled his sword out and held it above him expecting a continued assault that did not occur. After a few moments, he could hear it making it's way wherever it had been going. Putting the sword back he closed his eyes and taking a deep breath, decided to lay there for a moment as he considered his next move.

  Listening to the noises of the forest, he could hear the birds fighting each other in the branches, the squirrels chasing imaginary fiends across the grass, and the slimes bouncing through on their aimless pursuit of shiny things. _Maybe..._ he knew he was treading dangerous waters... _maybe I don't need to tell her about the gentleman..._

* * *

 

"Who are you guys?" the kid asked, seemingly oblivious to the dangerous look he and Tam were giving him after they made sure Perinque was unhurt. Slightly confused by the seemingly innocent question from a kid that had just somehow thrown their friend several dozen feet simply by raising his hands, he introduced himself.

"Gill?" the kid asked with his eyes raised in either confusion, or maybe amusement.

"What? No..." he attempted to correct the child but-

"I like it," Tam kicked in, a small smile on his lips.

"Thanks, _Tim_ ," he retorted, not quite sure that this was an appropriate way to move this encounter forward, but not particularly surprised by his friends inappropriately timed humor.

"I can do Tim," Tam replied with a shrug.

"And you?" the kid asked Perinque, having moved on from his name before he could correct him.

  She seemed to be mostly over the surprise, the child had disarmed her more than just physically, though that wasn't as surprising given her feeling towards all living things, "Perinque," she supplied with a small smile of her own.

"Pinky?" the kid asked, eyes raised, and wearing an obvious smile this time.

"Hah!" Tam laughed, shooting a quick glance at Perinque and bracing as if he were ready to move in a hurry.

She frowned, "Noo.... you're missing half of it, I said-"

"I think Pinky fits," he interrupted, knowing as he did that it was probably a bad idea to antagonize her, but deciding to enjoy this diversion.

  She shot him a dangerous look, but was prevented from whatever she was about to say by the kid exclaiming, "Pinky, Tim, and Gill. Got it. I'm the Servant, or maybe just kid, whichever you guys like better."

  Frowning at the strange introduction, he noticed that the kid looked up and off to the side as if he was listening to...

"Okay, okay," the kid said with a frown into the brief silence.

"Okay what?" Tam asked him, "Was that from _him_ ," he added nodding over the child's head.

  A look of surprise crossed the kid's face as he quickly looked up and over his shoulder, "You can See my master?" he asked sounding excited, "What do you look like?" he asked the air above him, before concentrating on the empty space for a moment as if he were trying to see something. He then jumped, a little wide eyed and added, "Fine, okay, I'll tell them already."

  He was terribly confused. Master? Servant? What was going on here? Looking over at his friends he saw his confusion mirrored on Perinque's face, but Tam seemed particularly intent on the kid.

"My master says that _our_ fates are sealed," the child informed them in a neutral tone that did not quite _fit_ the weight of his proclamation, "and asks why _you_ ," the kid was pointing at him, "have brought the corruption here. He doesn't sound very happy about it," he added.

  Shocked, he wasn't sure how to respond, and the look his friends were giving him did nothing to ease his nerves. Confusion, and... what? "I..." he tried to defend himself, "... don't know what you're talking about."

"May I?" Tam asked the air above the boy as he raised his hand with a low white glow.

"Master says to ask me," the kid answered his question, "and my answer is sure," he added.

  Tam raised his hand towards the air above the boy, but nothing happened. Looking up confused at first, a look of understanding crossed his face and he pointed instead at the boy. A white beam of light, similar to the one from the night the eye had attacked, connected Tam with the child. The kid's face glazed over before an ancient and powerful voice that had never belonged to a child could be heard, "Be welcome Mage. Be welcome Defender. Be gone Corrupted Vessel."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehe, so 'this' scene was dreamed up at the same time the 'Side Story' was introduced. From the moment you first met these characters, I've been waiting for them to get here for this play on names. (Which is why I never revealed the pronunciation for Perinque... I wanted to let the kid do it. ;P But now that we're 'here' it's pear-in-key with a slight 'Trell' for the R.) I 'did' originally expect it to come sooner, and the 'flow' is different than I'd initially dreamed up (The 'Original' version had the scene cutting to the kid just outright saying the "Pinky, Tim, and Gill. Got it. I'm the Servant, or maybe just kid, whichever you guys like better." line), but the playful back and forth I think is better. There's actually a bit 'more' revealed / going on here... but the Name Play is my favorite part of this. ;P
> 
> Okay, so there ends "Chapter 25: A Whole New World". Now that this is posted, I 'do' have 'some' work done on the next section... but November is NaNoWriMo (Are you doing it? Add me, if you're not... you 'should'! It's a fun way to connect with Writer's in your area), so 'that' will be taking the majority of my Writing time... if I get particularly ahead, or I'm 'stuck' in that and need something else to work on, I 'may' come back to this... but updates are likely to be sparse this next month, just a heads up.


	26. Corruption's Touch

  Getting up, he continued on his way to the other structure, knowing as he did that he had no reason to expect this new person to be there, but having no idea where else to look. _And what do I say when I find her? Hi, do you know how to get out of this place? Oh, by the way, some guy went running out to get eaten by zombies a few nights ago, but he said your name as he left. He's probably dead now, but don't worry about it, let's just focus on getting back to where we belong._ That would go over well...

   Reaching the structure, he wasn't surprised to find it empty once more. He decided that since someone else was going to be staying here though... that he should probably straighten it up a bit. Walking over to the furnace, he pulled his hammer out and struck it with the intent to move it. *Thump* Nothing. Frowning at it, he was certain Guile had told him the hammer would move the furnace, so trying to imagine the thing moving again, he swung his hammer once more. *Thump* Nothing.

   Kicking the stupid thing, he shouted out at it, "What is the matter with you, stupid oven!" as he assailed it with his hammer.

 *Thump, thump, thump, Wham!* his hammer slipped and knocked a tile loose from the floor, which did not improve his mood.

 *Wham! Thump, thump, Thump, Wham!*

   Still nothing, excepting a few more floor tiles caught up in his frustration. "Gah!" he threw the Hammer at the wall, leaving a small dent in the wood there, but not having any other effect. Guile had told him he could waste his time using his pickaxe to break the oven apart too... and for a moment he considered it, but taking a deep breath decided against it. The flame within it was incredible... and he didn't want to risk burning the structure down around him.

 "Are you done with your temper tantrum?" Guile asked him from outside the building. He'd left the door open upon entering, and should not have been surprised to hear his _guide_ , but he jumped a little nonetheless. 

  Walking over to pick up his hammer, and letting it return to his pouches on its own, he considered just ignoring him... but the oven not moving bothered him, so he decided to ask, "Why didn't that work?"

 "Were the hammer of a more powerful material, perhaps you could have had a more notable impact on the wall. But as it's merely a Wooden Hammer..."

 Shaking his head and laughing darkly in response with his eyes, fists, and teeth clenched, tears of frustration threatening to erupt, he took a deep breath and responded, "Let's pretend for a moment that you're not entirely incapable of understanding EVERY BLAMED QUESTION I ASK!" he ended up yelling.

 "I _do_ understand your questions," Guile informed him, unmoved by his outburst, "Unfortunately..." he appended.

 "Why aren't you freaking out on me!?" he yelled in response, "Why do you continue to follow me around like some kind of lost puppy!?" he added, "And why doesn't the hammer work on this stupid oven!" he ended.

   The room seemed to seal up around him and even the sun lost is brilliance through the openings. He could _feel_ the hungering darkness billowing through him, and standing in the doorway was every dark dream he'd ever encountered, with a violence that cut him in ways he could not heal burning at it's core. Beside the force of that darkness, the fire of the oven was dimmed to mute glow, and even the sound of it seemed to have been buffered by the darkness. A voice that no longer threatened, or even promised, but by the simple sound of it _began_ to fulfill its dark desires drifted lazily through the air as Guile responded, "What's the matter _Fleshling..._ Do you truly _miss_ my gentle caress so much..."

**···············**

  _No!_ He'd managed to hold it at bay so far, but this worse than he'd experienced in quite some time. _No! I refuse to submit to..._

   Anything else he'd wanted to shout was swallowed by the unexpected wave of change that came across them at the worst possible time. The rules of their world were disrupted, and in that moment he was thrown from himself in a way that he'd never encountered before. It was almost as if he'd fallen again... but he knew... he thought... that was impossible.

   He could feel the voice as it ripped through him to speak to the builder, and beyond that... he _knew_ that if he didn't do _something..._ the voice would not allow him to return to stop it before... he wasn't sure before what, but he _knew_ that this must not happen. The Builder had found a Heart Crystal, he _should_ have been protected, but it seemed to have known the change was coming, and it was taking advantage of the temporary loosening of the rules.

  **···············**

   He tried to move, but though he did not feel anything restraining him, he was paralyzed by the terror flooding him. It was only made worse by the knowledge that had he tried, he _could_ have moved... but he was trapped, where could he go? Guile continued, every word he spoke peeling away at what little will he had left holding him upright.

 "You have once more mistaken your _role_ Fleshling..." he said, the darkness caressing the room carving its presence into the building and his psyche as he continued, "I have already promised you an opportunity to forfeit your life in my presence... but you seem eager to encourage my... _affections_ ," with that word, all the darkness solidified and he was no longer able to even see the building surrounding him.

   A sudden flashback to the time following the zombie's assault on him in the caves that had been behind the structure came crashing over him like a wave of painful remembrance, and the voice he heard now was unmistakably the same voice he'd heard back then. He instinctively tried to cower away from Guile, whose outline he could still see a short distance away, but only managed to unbalance himself in the process. Falling, he did not immediately hit the floor that should have been at his feet and instead he seemed to simply lose contact with the ground without anything coming to take its place.

 "It _is_ a pity..." the voice seemed to originate, not from Guile, but from the very darkness surrounding him, "even now, I am still bound by the rules of this world, and the imprisonment I have been subjected to. _This_..." a flash of pearly purple light accompanied the emphasis of that last word and reawakened not only the memory of his time in the darkness after he had _fallen_... an experience that he had undoubtedly forgotten apurpose, but resonated _against_ him in some manner, causing him to cry out in an agony that he did not believe he could endure. It was as if the light were trying to remove some crucial element of his very being, from every minute aspect of him at the same time. "does not please me."

   As quickly as it came upon him the pain left with the light, leaving a memory of its passing burned into his core, even as the light slowly faded back to the blackness surrounding him. "Let it not be said that I have withheld my _affections_ willingly Fleshling. If ever you doubt my interest in your pitiable plight, bind yourself again to the world and may my _gift_ to you recall my interests anew," as he said this the darkness began to fade, or the shelter began to reappear, he wasn't quite sure, but even the _memory_ of that pain kept him from focusing enough to determine which it was.

  **···············**

   With every word it spoke, a pain the likes of which he hadn't endured since time long since lost among the forgotten memories of the world cut through him. Whatever it was doing not only defied his understanding of its presence up until this point, but seemed to cut against the rules of the world as he understood it. From the moment he first fell into the darkness to the moment he began coming back into himself, he wasn't sure if either he _or_ the builder would survive this new assault.

   As the structure slowly faded back into his vision, he could hear it speak through him with only the memory of the pain accompanying it. "One more thing before I leave you to your thus far fruitless endeavors _Fleshling_ ," it said, "Tonight my touch upon the world will be felt by all the creatures that walk beyond the reach of the sun, and you..." its voice began to fade as it ended its hold on him, "must forge your worth in the light of _my_ moon."

  A Blood Moon. The Builder was not ready. He would not survive, the Nurse would not survive. The cycle would have to begin anew. This was too soon, how... why... the fragile fragments of hope he'd found locked away shattered, and the emptiness that had defined his life reasserted itself to the low laughter of the voice, a laughter he knew only he could hear.

"Uuuuuhhhhh...." the Builder's useless moaning from the floor in the center of the room failed to capture his attention as he began picking himself up from where he'd collapsed in the doorway. He began to prepare himself for another period of solitude. None of the creatures of the land were willing to engage him when the world was without a Builder. How long would it be this time? How long _had_ it been? Turning to leave his eye caught the crest manifested at the crown of the furnace and the broken fragments of his hope stirred almost imperceptibly.

  No Builder had ever managed to manifest the Land's crest. Looking down at the tattered, almost useless figure balled up on itself on the floor, he realized that it meant _something_... it had to. Taking a deep ragged breath, he snapped at the Builder, "You don't have time to relax. If you want to survive the night-"

"Stop," the Builder's voice silenced him, weak as it was coming from his curled form, shaking lightly with low, but otherwise unconcealed sobs, "just stop. I don't care anymore," and as he spoke those words, the staggering depth of his desolation threatened to swallow Guile in its completeness, and the words seemed to pull at the crest, causing it to fade from the furnace...

 "No!" he shouted as he reached out towards the fading crest as if he were reaching out to the last glimmer of hope left in the world, which for all he knew, may have been the truth.

 "Why not!" the Builder, oblivious as usual to the goings on around him, sobbed in response, "I'm useless, I'm destined to fail, you've made that painfully clear... why. _should._ I. care?" he managed to get out between sobs before continuing in a softer voice, "I remember... the darkness..." before continuing his fruitless sobbing as the crest continued to fade into the bleakness of his forfeit.

  **···············**

   It wouldn't open. I'd tried kicking it, hitting the latch with a rock and fiddling with all the limited features for some kind of hidden mechanism... but nothing I did managed to open the strange wooden chest. Frustrated, and no closer to figuring out my situation, I sat on a nearby stone and head in my hands, tried to to figure out my next move.

   I'd been hiking for only a few hours at most, the sun was hardly more than halfway across the sky, but outside of this chest, and a few nearby clay pots, I'd seen nothing to indicate that people had ever been through here. This proved that _someone_ had to have been in the area... though it could just as easily have been the strange guy as anyone else.

 "You need to go back," a voice spoke from somewhere nearby.

   Jumping, and tightening my grip on the stone I was still thankfully holding, I looked around for the source of the voice. It carried, somehow, a sense of great age, without sounding dilapidated. "Who's there?" I asked.

 "Who I am is of no import," the voice responded, "but _you_ are the Nurse, and he needs you _now_."

   My stomach clenched, and a chill raced down my spine at his words. How did he know what I did for a living... "You!" I shouted, "It was _you_ that kidnapped me!" Backing towards the wall of the overhang, I tried to locate where he was hiding so that I had at least a _chance_ to defend myself. I considered and discarded running as I didn't know where I was and he likely did. There was no good outcome here if I couldn't even _see_ my opponent.

 "No," the voice seemed to sigh in response, "Your summoning was a product of the world's magic. Perhaps you'll live long enough to learn more about it, but that will not happen if you do not return immediately."

    _Great, he's crazy too... What's going_ on _here!?_ "Why?" I wanted to get him to talk more, there was nothing nearby large enough to conceal a person, and yet the voice seemed to be coming from somewhere incredibly close, "Why do I need to go back?" a thought occurred, "Is it Johnathan? Is he back there?"

 "No," the voice answered definitively, and there was a pang of something else... remorse? "The Builder is there, and it is _he_ that needs you now."

 "Builder?" I asked incredulously. _Why am I supposed to care about some builder?_ "That has nothing to do with me," I added.

 "There, you are wrong," the voice intoned, "For it was by _his_ actions that you were summoned, and it will be by _his_ actions that you will survive here."

 "So wait!" I recoiled, now the truth came out, " _He_ brought me here? And you think I want to go _to_ him now? You really _are_ crazy!" there must have been some kind of hidden speaker or something nearby. There was no way I could hear his voice _this_ clearly and still not be able to see him.

 "As I have already said, it was the world's magic that _brought you_ , but it was _his_ actions that provided the necessary catalyst," the voice informed me, "None of which will matter if he falls to light of _this_ night's moon. Even if you somehow manage to survive on your own," it continued, "as unlikely as that is, _his_ fall will ensure that you do not survive too many nights beyond."

 "So you're threatening me?" I asked, shaken. It was obvious I was in trouble, and there was no good answer unless I could somehow figure out where I was, or maybe find some help... not that I knew who I could trust even assuming I _did_ find someone... Slumping against the wall, the fear that I'd been holding at bay threatened to rend me apart from the inside out. There was just too much I didn't know...

 "Nurse," the voice began.

 "My name is Kathryn!" I shouted. I was already out in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of crazy people. Insisting on my name was probably a silly consideration... but I wanted to get _some_ kind of control back, and to that gain I climbed back to my feet.

 "Kathryn then," the voice continued, a hint of an edge creeping into it, "you must return to the Builder. I have already warned you that his life, and as a result, _your_ life is dependent on a timely return. Why then do you delay? Are you so eager to find the end of your life that you would run to it blindly?"

 "You haven't told me _why_ I should care about some Builder," I answered his question, "and beyond that, you're threatening me and hiding your identity... neither of which inspires trust."

 "I do not threaten you," the voice spoke with frustration obvious in its tone, "This world is bound by powers that you can not begin to understand yet, and even coming to you like this was almost more than I could manage. That you _may_ survive is a boon from my years of experience, though you know it not," the voice hardened, "Now cease with the questions I can not answer. You will need to hasten from here, and the longer you wait, the more the need for haste. You must feel the pull by now..."

   It was true, I _did_ feel a kind of... _Pull?_ Sure, that was as good a word as any. Even with my eyes closed, I could point to... _something_ , and I had a feeling that it was my _home_... though why I thought that I could not say, as I knew I was far... far from home.

 "Why?" I didn't know what else to ask, "Why does he _need me_? Why can't you answer _that_! And why does it matter whether or not he survives the night? What kind of _Game_ are you playing here?" though even as I asked, the healer in me winced. How could I so callously turn my back on someone who's life may be in danger.

 "This is no _Game_ Nurse. The world is beset by forces that given their want, would rend it from one end to another. There are precious few capable of resisting these forces. The builder is one such entity, and perhaps the last we will ever see. It is for that reason that you must return. If he falls, everything falls with him, and then your petty concerns will amount to naught."

 "I will NOT be bullied by someone hiding in the shadows and telling me what to do!" I shouted at him. This was too much. All this talk of magic, and forces _rending_ the world, and... it was just too much.

 "You refuse to heed my warnings, and yet insist on my company?!" it responded, ire redolent in his voice. A bright flash of purple light exploded in the air beneath the overhang, blinding me for a moment as he roared, "Then _See Me_!". As my eyes cleared, I could see...

"Oh... God..." barely a whisper, all my muscles froze up, and the stone fell uselessly from my grip. Standing far too close was a figure clad in a silky royal blue robe that draped voluminously over its decrepit frame with a pointed grey hat atop its skull... skull, because decrepit wasn't the word... Skeletal... Bones and all... there was a Skeleton standing there, a Skeleton that just appeared out of thin air. It was like the kind we had strung up in the waiting room, only this one wasn't strung up... just standing there, arms crossed and somehow, radiating power that I could _almost_ see... "Oh god..." I whispered a second time.

**···············**

The fear radiating from her had to have been palpable to more than just my highly attenuated senses... Though it's been so long since I've had eyes, that I would be hesitant to bet on it. _Kill Her_. No, that's not what I want. "Now you see me!" I said instead, "Are you content to heed my warnings now?" _Chaos comes to all in the end. Rend her soul from her mortal frame. Bind her to_ Me...

"You..." she whimpered, cowering back against the wall, as I knew she would. I was used to this reaction. There was a reason I spoke from the Shadows, "you're...."

"Dead, No... but the true answer is beyond your-," I attempted to answer her, but it was to no avail. For all that she cowered, she moved rather quick when she wanted to... though I could have done without the screaming. At least she was headed in the right direction.

  _It is for naught_ \- Focusing, I was able to detach my attention from the voice that spoke through the corrupted segments of my nature. There was a price to be paid for the powers I've come to control, and the limitations imposed on my ability to communicate at times was the least of them. Not for the first, I regret my treatment of... No... I was young, I was ignorant, the fault was not mine... but still... had we reacted differently...

 

* * *

 

  Upon establishing the link, it was unsurprisingly very similar to the link I'd formed with the Eye of Cthulu as I've come to understand its designation. It was less a name, and more of a title, the need for a name being foreign to the entity that manifested itself as the Eye. This child was more than a simple manifestation though, and therin lied the differences in the link. For it was not _only_ the entity that designated itself Master, but also the child... Servant, as he called himself, even _to_ himself.

  The link worked both ways, much like it had between Perinque and I before, so as I learned of the relationship between Master and Servant, _they_ learned of our time in Terraria, and the relationships between us. It wasn't exactly a _sharing of information_ as it was a sudden connection, as if these memories had been mine all along and I'd only just now realized it. With the Eye, it was very much a active sharing, sort of a mind to mind speech as it simultaneously spoke through Perinque, and this new sudden baring of my memories to someone outside of our group felt almost like a violation... even though _I_ had initiated the link.

  But through it I learned that the structure behind them was a place for the fallen warriors of the world to gather. Branded the _Dungeon_ for reasons that had never been explained to the child, the structure allowed a safe haven for the restless dead that managed to find their way there. For while this link connected our memories, it was only the memories belong to the child that I _knew_ now. His Master's mind was beyond the link, just as the Eye's had been, and then...

 _"Can you hear his voice now too?"_ a voice that sounded like the child's spoke through the link.

 _"Yes,"_ I answered, having already experienced this kind of communication, I was able to respond in turn, _"Can't you hear him speaking through you?"_

 _"No..."_ the child responded, _"It's weird... I can hear you now like I used to hear Master... but I can't hear him anymore..."_

 _"I was not speaking to you,"_ the same ancient voice they had just heard talking through the child spoke through the link. And its presence... was far more than the Eye's had been. The sheer power that radiated from that voice was enough to have dropped him to his knees, had the link not held him up.

 _"There is much for you to learn Mage,"_ the voice continued, _"Though I have not the experience to teach you. Come into the Dungeon and the fallen Casters will instruct you as they may."_

  This opportunity was incredible. To have instruction, to learn through more than simply trial and error, to... _"Why?"_ I needed to ask, _"do you call my friend the_ Corrupted Vessel _?"_

**···············**

  He didn't know how to respond to that and with Tam in trance mode, there was no asking him. "What..." he tried responding. _Touch the Mage..._ the voice instructed him, which caused him to jump away, as he knew where _that_ would end up.

"Do not play games with me corrupted one. I can see the taint on you as were it a beacon. You have been claimed, and are not welcome here. Be gone, that I may commune with these two in peace," the ancient voice intoned through the child who with a gesture threw him back from the entrance and his friends in much the same way the Perinque had been thrown only moments before.

"Hey!" Pernique shouted, rushing back to him to ensure he was also unharmed, "What's going on here!?"

"Do not waste your time with _that_ one," the voice intoned, "He has been claimed by corruption, and has thus sealed our fates."

"He!" she shouted back, "Is our friend, so if you want to _commune_ with us, you're going to have to commune with _all_ of us." To him, she said in a low voice, "I can see it in your face that you're not completely surprised by what he's saying... we're going to have _words_ later."

  Wincing, he realized he should have told them before, this was not the way he wanted his friends to find out about the voice in his head... but this kid had some sort of a voice too... and if it knew something about what it was he was hearing... Perinque pulled him to his feet and they looked toward the kid together.

"What can you tell me about this voice I'm hearing," he shouted out to the kid, not wanting to walk closer if he was only going to be thrown again. The glare Perinque gave him only reinforced her warning, but it was too late to change things now.

  The kid's eyes narrowed, and the light connecting him to their friend blinked out, causing both of them to slump to the floor. Perinque rushed over to Tam, not letting the kid out of her field of vision, though beyond shaking his head and climbing back to his feet, the kid didn't seem interested in going anywhere.

"Well," Tam said after stretching, and getting to his feet as well, "that's that."

"I'm sorry," the kid said to him, his expression clearly sympathetic, "but when he makes up his mind..."

"No," Tam responded, in a consolatory manner, "don't apologize. It's _his_ decision after all, not yours."

"You can come back if you change your mind!" the kid piped back, an almost hopeful look on his face.

"Yeah..." Tam answered, turning to look back at him with a frown of his own, "that's not going to happen."

  He wasn't sure what had passed between them, but he knew that this conversation was somehow _his_ fault... and there was nothing he could think of to say that would make things better. _Worry not,_ the voice chimed in, _you will have plenty of time to_ improve _things..._ it said to him, laughing in a way that gave him chills as it did.

  The kid turned and went back into the structure, closing the door behind him, and Tam and Perinque walked over to him. Perinque glaring, and Tam seeming only half aware of what was going on around him, as he did when he was working on something back at their house. He was obviously processing whatever had just occurred, and as a result would not respond to any questions until he was done, which just left Perinque...

“I’m sorry I didn’t bring it up before,” he quickly tried to apologize, “but I’ve been hearing some kind of voice ever since I fell during that battle against the giant demon eye.”

“The Eye of Cthulhu,” Tam interjected, and the two of them looked at him, but it was obvious he was just correcting them, he wasn’t ready to talk yet.

“Whatever it’s called,” Perinque snapped, “You should have said something!”

“Like what?!” he shouted back, “Hey guys, I’m hearing a creepy voice, but don’t worry about me!" he snapped back.


	27. The Blood Moon

_A Skeleton! Oh God... he... it... Skeleton!_ I was having a hard time thinking... a hard time breathing even, I was... running? The last clear thought I had was that I had to get away from... _It's impossible, I didn't see... there must have been some kind of... Skeleton..._

  I was climbing, towards... that _pull_. I didn't want to go, there was just too much... This was _wrong_... _Skeletons can't talk... No Lungs... Larynx... Lips..._ They couldn't appear out of thin air either... _Why do I feel_ pulled _this way?_ The sun was most of the way down, where had the time gone? The plateau with the small shack was not too far ahead. It _felt_ right, like I _belonged_ there. My throat was raw... _Was I screaming?_ I could see the light coming out of the small hole in the back of the structure... _Why was it so dark?_ I came around the front of the building and threw myself through the door, collapsing as I passed the entrance, and my last thought before being overcome by blackness was of landing on something soft that spasmed as all my muscles liquefied simultaneously.

\----------

  _There's no point..._ he thought over, and over again, _None of it matters..._ the voice from the darkness, Guile's voice, it taunted him... All the threats, the warnings, he was not enough... he didn't understand enough... _In the light, in the darkness... there is no escape..._ he was just going to lie here and...

  The door came crashing open, and _something_ attacked him. Even as far gone as he felt, he couldn't just lie there as he was assailed. Throwing his arms at whatever it was, he pushed it away from him roughly so that he could scramble away, and pulling his sword out he turned to defend himself from his position on the floor from... _A woman?_

  Crumpled in a heap on the floor where he'd shoved her, near to the workbench, was a young fair skinned woman in a clean white dress, with a white cap emblazoned with a red cross tied into her bright blonde hair. He sat there staring at her for what would have been an embarrassing amount of time had she not been lying there so obviously unconscious.

  Even so, _he_ was uncomfortable sitting near the open door with a sword pointed at the second person that wasn't Guile he'd _actually_ encountered in this place. _Kathryn, the_ Nurse _as Guile called her. She's hurt!_ he thought as he quickly put the sword away and crawled over to check on her. She was breathing, and really... she looked perfectly whole, unlike the gentleman from before. Thinking about that he suddenly realized that it was dark, too dark.

  Scrambling to his feet he slammed the door shut and looked out the opening he'd left beside it. The sun was just passing the horizon and very soon, the restless dead would begin to stir. Suppressing a shudder, he knew the structure was proof against them and in any event, he now had someone else to protect. He could not spare the fear he'd otherwise allow himself... so he suppressed another shudder.

  Looking back at the young woman, he wasn't sure what to do with her. Should he just let her lie there? It's not like any of the rest of the floor was any more comfortable. She _was_ unnaturally splayed however, so he decided to settle her limbs in a more natural resting position. As soon as his hands touched her arms, she kicked out with her legs throwing him away from her and knocking her head against the workbench in the process.  
"GooooW!" she scrambled away backwards towards the wall and shouted, "Stay away from me!"

\----------

  Somebody was trying to attack me! Even half out of it and exhausted as I was I didn't need time to consider a response, I just kicked out with my legs pushing myself, "GooooW!" my head, the stool! Swinging my arms about to ensure my attacker wasn't already on me, I backed towards what I hoped was the wall.

"Stay away from me!" I shouted, not really expecting the kind of twisted person that would kidnap someone and bring them out to the middle of nowhere to listen, but I was running on adrenaline and instinct against a foe I'd still hadn't gotten a good look at, so it would have to do. I should have grabbed the bench...

"It's okay..."

"HA!" inappropriate a response as it was, I couldn't help it. The idea that _anything_ was okay right now was patently ridiculous. Kidnapped, out in the middle of nowhere, talking Skeletons, and this nutjob was trying to _comfort_ me?! "Ha-ha-ha-ha..." I laughed, more than a touch maniacally.

  Forcing my eyes to focus through the ringing, I got my first look at my kidnapper. He was a mess. Filthy scraggly hair that could have been almost any color through all the dirt and grime, and rags, that may have at one time been clothing of some kind, hardly did anything to keep him decent. He was equally dirty, though otherwise appeared in good health, and the rags, upon minutely closer inspection, seemed to have been torn and ripped intentionally. Did some of that dirt looked suspiciously like dried blood? Adding to his strange attire was a metal shackle, the kind you'd see attached to a ball and chain in a low budget movie, attached to his right wrist, as if someone had attempted to chain this deranged individual, but had unfortunately failed in the effort.

  For a moment, I could see something more, something... but then he took a step towards me and I snapped out of whatever that was, "Don't you dare!" I threatened him, braver than I felt, "I know it was _you_ that brought me here!" I shouted.

  The look on his face was enough to confirm my words. Surprise, followed by guilt, before he muttered, "I'm sorry. I didn't know... How did you?" he asked, hardly audible.

"The skeleton told me," I answered, gut dropping as I realized how ridiculous that sounded.

"Who?" he asked, completely unfazed by that revelation, "it was probably _his_ fault! A voice told me to break the Heart Crystal, I didn't know that it would bring you here!" he shouted in defense of his actions.

  It was no surprise that this guy was as deranged as the rest of the people I'd met out here, wherever here was. I needed to get out of this building, and... I didn't know what then, but I needed to...

" _Kaaaathryyyyyn..._ " a voice, sounding at the same time familiar and nightmarish, like a cherished memory gone horribly sour came drifting in from outside. At the same time a sword, made entirely out of wood, appeared in my captors hand before he turned towards the small window beside the door, but not before a look that was at least half anger and half terror contorted his face.

\----------

  Looking out the window of the structure he'd acquired from the Builder, he could _feel_ the Blood Moon rising, and for the first time in as long as he could remember... the presence left him entirely alone. Falling to the floor weeping, not just for the sudden release he'd never expected to feel, but for the end of his last vestige of hope as the crimson light slowly coated the world. Though he was released temporarily, he knew where the presence was going, and the Builder _was not_ ready.

\----------

  He didn't know what he was looking at, or more accurately, he wasn't sure what was going on. Standing at the very edge of the plateau that the structure was now sitting on was the once well-dressed gentleman... or... what was left of him. His hat was in surprisingly good condition... it was just the rest of him that was more than a little worse for the wear.

  His suit no longer qualified for that title, and with his skin missing in large portions on not only his face, but his body seen through the remnants of his clothing, it was clear that he was no longer among the living... though coated in a blood red light that seemed to cover everything in his field of vision he stood there nonetheless with an expression that was probably as close to a smile as the remains of his face could manage.

  Rooted to the spot he wasn't sure how to respond, and the red glow coming... from the moon as the first sliver of it came cresting over the horizon seemed to pull at him in ways he was unprepared to resist. Which left him entirely unprepared when the nurse chose to act.

\----------

"Johnathan!" I yelled as I realized why the voice sounded so familiar. There was something... wrong, with his voice, but I recognized him anyway.

  Getting up I took the risk of running past my captor and pushing through the door, I ran out into the strange red hued night as he attempted to grab at me. Pulling away, I stopped myself within arm's reach before running headlong into... _Oh no..._

"What's the matter _Kathy_?" he asked using the pet name only _he_ had ever dared use, the voice coming out all wrong because _he_ was... _Oh god no..._

  He reached out quicker than I could evade him and pulled me against his ruined body. The suit he'd been wearing at our ceremony hung in tatters around him, in worse condition even than the rags my captor had been wearing. The rest of him was in no better condition. It looked as if he had been picked apart by some kind of violent creature and beyond that, there was a... _wrongness_ that was uncomfortably familiar radiating from him. I could almost _feel_ the same... _wrongness_ in the chillingly blood red light of the moon.

  Putting his ruined face beside mine, he whispered directly into my ear, "Don't you still love me?"

  Struggling, I tried desperately to push away from my fiancé... my husband. While I knew there was something wrong with him, if I could just...

"Truly Fleshling?" he spoke in a raised voice over my shoulder, tightening his grip as he did, "Do you _truly_ believe yourself a match for this vessel for my will?"

"I don't know what you're up to," my captor shouted at Johnathan, "But let her go!"

  In a movement that was as terrifying as it was unexpected, Johnathan flipped me over his head, knocking the top hat we'd purchased only the night before the wedding off in the process. Firmly gripping my arms to keep me from falling or breaking loose, he held me upside down over the side of the plateau and the sight below me was enough to fully engage what little terror I still had in reserve.

  Standing in congregation at the bottom of the climb to the little building was a mass of people washed in the bloody light... no that wasn't right, creatures that had maybe once been people, each one more grotesque than the last. Pieces, and sometimes all of, their flesh were missing and just as many had boney appendages where their hands or feet should have been. It took me a moment to realize that the screaming I was hearing was my own, and it was all I could do to keep from succumbing to the terror of it all and allowing darkness to pull me into its final dance.

\----------

  He wasn't sure what to do. Guile's voice was coming out of the Well Dressed Gentleman, and he was holding Kathryn over the edge of the plateau. If he lunged at him, he risked her being dropped, but he couldn't just stand there doing nothing while she was screaming upside down in his hands.

"If you wish," the Gentleman, no Guile speaking _through_ the Gentleman, said in a voice that he could _feel_ resonating in all the feeble parts of his will. He'd seen his _Guide's_ strange presence before, and that same darkness was radiating powerfully from the Gentleman... stronger really than he'd ever experienced, and it took him a moment before he realized why. The moon... _it_ was somehow contributing to the _wrongness_ that the Gentleman radiated. He wasn't entirely sure _how_ he knew that... until Guile's words from earlier came back to him, _Tonight my touch upon the world will be felt by all the creatures that walk beyond the reach of the sun, and you... must forge your worth in the light of_ my _moon._

"Wait!" he shouted before the Gentleman threw her over the edge, "What do you want?" It was a stupid question, all Guile had ever shown interest in was toying with him but if he could figure out what the game was, perhaps he'd have a chance to save her from it.

  She was kicking and screaming against his hold, but he showed no sign that he even noticed her efforts as he answered, " _Want_ Fleshing? What I _want_ is release from my imprisonment in this pitiful construct. What I _want_ is absolute dominion over all that _is_. For now however," he pulled her back over his head, throwing her at him in the same motion, "I'll settle for a more _base_ pleasure," he ended before lunging at the two of them.

  There was no time to recover from having the nurse thrown into him, still kicking and screaming as if nothing would ever calm her again, before the Gentleman was on top of them. The _wrongness_ was overpowering at this distance, and as the Gentleman's clawed grasp dug into the flesh of his arms, pinning the nurse between them, he struggled to move from beneath her so that he could safely use his sword.

"Tell me _Fleshling_ ," the Gentleman taunted in an almost conversational way, Guile's voice unaffected as he bit into the Nurses shoulder, increasing the fervor of her thrashing, but having no noticeable effect on their assailant, "are you prepared to return to the darkness of _my_ embrace?"

  He tried to ignore the taunting. Guile wanted to distract him and unless he focused, a task made more difficult by the pain on top of the _wrongness_ radiating from the Gentleman, neither he nor the Nurse were likely to survive the night. They needed to get back into the structure, but he had to dislodge the Gentleman first. The sword was still within his grip, loose as it was, and with no other option but to trust to the weapon he attempted to flip it up towards the Gentleman.

  The weapon responded. Coming up with a force that was far more than he could have possibly provided alone, the sword cut solidly into the Gentleman's shoulder, and as had occurred with the walking dead in the past, caused him to leap back from the blow. There was hardly time to fully appreciate the fact that the Gentleman was no longer on top of them before he was half pushing half dragging the Nurse into the doorway. Turning as she toppled through, he swung the sword once more at what he assumed would be the Gentleman in a continued assault. As the blade cut cleanly through the open air, he could feel his hastily constructed wall of self-control shudder ominously at the sight before him.

  Leaping up over the edge of the Plateau behind the Gentleman in a grotesque acrobatic display were more of the walking dead than he had ever seen... an almost innumerable sum of them. And in the air above them swarmed an equally nightmarish cloud of the flying eyes, their trailing veins lashing about with a violent fervor. He almost lost his grip not only on the sword, but on his feeble self-control. Were it not for the sound of weeping behind him to remind him _why_ he could not simply walk out to greet the mob with open arms, it was unlikely he'd have managed even that.

  Standing before this mass of death was the Gentleman, his face once more twisted into what may have been a smile, his arm raised as if forestalling the massacre that haloed the swarm in a Blood Red Light.

"And now you see _Fleshling_ , that your escape is impossible. I will allow you to come to me of your own volition," Guile's voice spoke from the Gentleman, "Drop that useless stick and enter now into _my_ embrace."

  It was terrible how tempting his offer was at that moment. An end to the constant pain and terror that had defined his life since he'd awoken in this place... but it wasn't just _his_ life that would be affected anymore, and though he'd tensed unconsciously to move forward, he straightened his stance and shook his head as he responded, "Never." with far more conviction in his tone than he would have believed he had remaining.

" _Hehehe..._ " the dark laughter seemed to come from the air between he and the Gentleman, seemed to come at once from every non-existent mouth in the mass of floating eyes, seemed even to pour like a slow wave from the shambling forms now seething behind the Gentleman waiting for some sign to break across the plateau washing even the _hope_ of escape away in the ruby violence of the night.

  The sound of it almost did what the sight did not, and again he felt himself tensed to move towards his inevitable end and the Gentleman's now open embrace. Using the very last of his resolve, he turned from the nightmarish scene before him and stumbling into the structure, threw the door closed behind him before collapsing to the floor inside.

"What are you doing!?" the Nurse screamed at him as she dragged the bench towards the door, "We need to barricade them out!" she was yelling, the horror that he felt inside manifest in her expression.

"The door..." he tried to respond as a hungry roar erupted from the mass of dead ready to break against their structure, "It keeps..." the sound of the Eyes pounding at the ceiling and walls provided a backdrop, "them out..." every opening had a grotesque mockery of what may have once been a human face, and brought in their hungry eager sounds...

                    *Knock*

  With the first rap, the rest of the sound was quenched as if it had never been, leaving behind a silence that could be _felt_ in the air.

                                        *Knock*

  The second rap consumed the emptiness, and tore across his already taut nerves as he turned from his place on the floor to face the door.

                                                              *Knock*

  After the third rap the silence once more filled every open space, and was made grotesque in the presence of the once living faces now quietly filling the openings in ceiling and wall. As he watched, no more able to move than he could fly, the handle to the door turned and he watched as the door slowly opened inward, revealing the Gentleman standing just outside the structure. A moment that felt like an eternity passed as he just stared, before the silence was broken by Guile's voice.

  The Groom, as he incoherently made the connection between the rags that had once clothed him and their purpose, now of all times, said to him, "Tonight, there is no safety in your walls," before stepping forward, the seething mass of the dead quivering behind him as if connected on some unseen thread. "Tonight, there is no safety... Anywhere."

  As the last word passed the Groom's lips, the eerie silence broke, and the chaos that followed blurred the lines between what was being seen, what he felt, and what he heard. It was as if the very world around him had been holding its breath, and with those words, it now it exhaled a gust of violence and death that was far too large for the tiny shack he had hoped to hide in.

  He was a fool to have believed that Guile would let him hide behind the door. From the first night he'd stayed within this structure he'd known this would happen. Guile had waited until he had something to lose... and _now_ he struck. It would have been almost comical in a gallows humor kind of way... if he weren't certain that this would be their last night in Terraria.

  The Groom simply stood there in the entrance, his ruined face wearing that mockery of a smile as the walking dead poured in behind him. Grabbing the Nurse, he pulled her behind him as he plunged his sword into Guile's puppet causing him to leap back towards the doorway. From there he tried to stop the dead from going around the oven, as that would put them behind him, but had to end up backing towards the Nurse instead.

  In very short order he was beyond the point where he had any idea what was actually going on. His world had been reduced to a Wooden Sword and an endless stream of the Walking Flying Dead. There were bits of gore, some of which may have even belonged to him... or the Nurse, coating everything. As one once living creature was forcibly removed from him, two more were eagerly taking their place. And though the flying eyes were contentedly smashing whatever they could reach in the cacophony... That was as often the wall of death as it was him and his charge, which may have helped him as much as it hurt. In fact, were it not for the confined space and thankfully the chairs that the Nurse had grabbed making every movement difficult, and not just his own, he was certain this would have already been over...

\----------

  My kidnapper pulling me away from facing Johnathan broke me from my paralyzed state, but there was little I could do in the chaos that followed. More creatures that looked to have once been alive began filing in, and coming in above them were giant floating eyes. If I hadn't already moved past my threshold for fear, that would have done it.

  As much as I didn't want to trust this guy, the fact that he was standing between me and a putrid assembly of dangerous creatures was enough for me to do so... at least for the moment. Grabbing the chairs set at the back of the room, I was pressing myself as far into the corner as I could get, keeping the chairs between me and the creatures.. And though this combined with the ragged looking crazy person wielding a sword _did_ manage to keep the bipedal horrors from tearing into me, it did nothing to prevent the eyes from their assault.

  Something as soft as an eye, even an eye that was nearly as large as my head, should not have been able to deliver as much force as these did upon impact. Granted, an eye doesn't tend to fly around in the air trailing little bits of its optic nerve... so my rationalizations were more than just a little out of place in this particular situation. My irrational focus could also have had something to do with the third or fourth blow to my upper body that was delivered with enough concussive force to leave me with what would undoubtedly be heavy contusions when... If... I survived this.

  My kidnapper wasn't fairing as well, having nothing but that wooden sword to stand between him and the creatures... And there was something else. I could see more than just the fact that his body was cut, torn, and bruised... I could see... _Something_ else. Not ignoring the fact that it _could_ simply be an optical illusion from the repeated blows to my head, I saw something like an incredibly soft glow emanating from him that was growing dimmer by the moment.


End file.
